It is not an arguable point that the days after a full-blown merrymaking event are nonpareil for eating. It doesn’t matter the state of the leftovers. They can be a smashed mess, yet they will be found delectable. Except, of course, if it’s fish, especially shellfish, which really should be disposed of the morning after. Avoid this unhappy waste by folding the bits and pieces into another dish—soups, pies, omelets, and tacos being good starting points.
There are people I know who think Thanksgiving is a particularly high watermark for leftovers. The majority believe that Friday’s breakfast should be pie, and there’s nothing wrong with whipped cream or ice cream on the side. For that matter, pie must be eaten straight through until all is gone: This is why several pies should always be baked. My dad had a lifelong love affair with turkey necks as a midnight snack with a glass of beer. Very ambitious people take the carcass and begin making soup. Delusional people wrap it up and throw it in the freezer, envisioning a late winter’s evening bowl of nourishing broth. I have two frost-bitten piles of bones, myself.
Turkey sandwiches are where the nation as a whole displays its gloriously divisive heritage. Everyone agrees that their way of making a turkey sandwich is the best ever. I personally believe this is true—yours probably is the best, it’s just not superior to mine. Your favorite celebrity chef and/or food writer will flaunt his or her own take on the sandwich and lure you to try it. Go ahead, but it will never replace the one of your dreams.
My superior turkey sandwiches are as follows:
Slather two slices of white bread (quality doesn’t matter) with a lot of Hellman’s mayonnaise. Mound one slice with shredded pieces of turkey. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Cut thick slabs of canned cranberry sauce and lay on top of the turkey. Stuffing may be added, too. If you need some greens, lettuce may be added at this point. Place second bread slice on top and press down gently while cutting the sandwich in two to help hold the contents from spilling out. Devour.
And,
Put one slice of white bread (quality doesn’t matter) on a dinner plate and mound reheated turkey meat on it. Cover with another bread slice. Cut in half. In the center plop a good portion of reheated mashed potatoes and another of stuffing. Press a well into the center of the potatoes and add a large pat of butter. Pour reheated gravy over everything. Devour.
Four days of such satisfying gluttony unfortunately leads to exhaustion of body and spirit. You will find me on Sunday a bloated being beached on a couch or bed. I have found a perfect remedy by way of my new favorite cookbook, Les Diners de Gala, written by Gala Dalí and handsomely illustrated by her proud husband, Salvador (thus the banner illustration). Their book is a straightforward unapologetic bender of epicureanism.
If you are a disciple of one of those calorie-counters who turn the joys of eating into a form of punishment, close this book at once; it is too lively, too aggressive, and far too impertinent for you.—Gala and Salvador Dalí
I plan to make every dish in it, a Pat and Gala and Salvador ménage à trois in contrast to a Julie and Julia duet.
Now here is the book’s recipe to cure our first overindulgence of the season. One note: Gala did not list the ingredients in the order they are used. Just go with it. Additionally, the photo shows a rimmed glass but the recipe doesn’t explain. I suppose it’s sugar, but I prefer the idea of pulverized crystalized ginger.
Casanova cocktail
juice of one orange
1 tablespoon bitters (Campari)
1 teaspoon ginger
4 tablespoons brandy
2 tablespoons old brandy (Vieille Cure)
1 pinch cayenne pepper
This is quite appropriate when circumstances such as exhaustion, overwork or simple excess of sobriety are calling for a pick-me-up.
Here is a well-tested recipe to fit the bill. Let us stress another advantage of this particular pep-up concoction is that one doesn’t have to make the sour face that usually accompanies the absorption of a remedy.
At the bottom of a glass, combine pepper and ginger. Pour the bitters on top, then brandy and “Vieille Cure.” Refrigerate or even put it in the freezer.
Thirty minutes later, remove from the freezer and stir the juice of the orange into the chilled glass.
Drink… and wait for the effect. It is rather speedy.
Very excited to see/hear/read the insight/lessons learned as you cook your way through this book. Sounds like it make be a little scandalous 😉