Cooking nytimes sweet potato pie how to#
Cooking nytimes sweet potato pie skin#

Roast for 30 minutes, then cover breast with foil. Place turkey on the roasting rack and brush with oil.

Pour in wine and 1 cup water, then add enough turkey or chicken stock so there is 1/4 inch of liquid in the pan. Scatter onion, shallots, fennel and lemon in a roasting pan fitted with a rack. Remove turkey from the refrigerator 1 hour before roasting.Transfer to the rack on the baking sheet and refrigerate uncovered overnight or for up to 3 days.

Cooking nytimes sweet potato pie skin#

Rub two-thirds of the paste all over the turkey, under its skin and in the cavity, then stuff remaining paste into holes in the legs. Place a wire rack on top of a rimmed baking sheet.In a blender, small food processor or large mortar and pestle, combine garlic, anchovies, rosemary, capers and pepper and 1/2 teaspoon salt per pound of turkey (i.e.See our extended Thanksgiving coverage for more recipes, instruction, videos and tips for the day, including our menu planner. Thanksgiving, of course, is all about the food. There’ll be far too much of it, but that’s O.K. I’ll be making the dishes you see here, the food we love. This year we’re finding our rhythm again, and I’ll host at my place for the first time. (That’s what gravy is for.) My dad passed away last year, a few weeks before Thanksgiving, so we skipped the big feast, sharing bagels and lox instead.

But I believe that if you engineer your day so you can cook with those you love and find happiness doing it, no one will notice if the white meat’s a little dry. Expectations run high, turkeys burn, pies bubble over. I realize it may not be like this for everyone.

Cooking nytimes sweet potato pie how to#

Thanksgiving is the most traditional dinner on the calendar, so I like to subvert it just a little, figuring out how to take an unchanging menu and reimagine it every time without losing its comforting essence. Then there’s strategizing, experimenting, tweaking. And just as when I was a kid, there’s the chatting, the kvetching and the endless debate about whether to put candied ginger in the pie or the ice cream - and whether the turkey is finally done. As friends and family arrive, they end up in the kitchen too, wine glasses and potato peelers pressed into their hands. My daughter, Dahlia, likes to pick the leaves off herbs and nibble on marshmallows when she imagines no one is looking. For me, the joy comes in pressing the butter into the flour with my fingers, trying to get the lightest, airiest pie crust, while my husband, Daniel, mashes butter and bourbon into the sweet potatoes, humming to the Bowie he’s put on the morning’s playlist. What he was talking about was not just the meal itself, but the messy, convivial process of everyone cooking it together: the garlic mincing, vegetable trimming and pie dough rolling, all punctuated by the chatting, kvetching and endless debate over the paprika in the brussels sprouts and whether the turkey was done. It was always right at the most hectic moment when he’d look up, tears in his eyes (from the onions he was chopping), and declare, “Thanksgiving is the best holiday, because it’s all about the food.” There’d be butter splattering from the turkey basting, pans of mushrooms hissing. By Melissa Clark |Thanksgiving mornings were chaos when I was a kid, and my dad was always in the middle of it.