Turnip Bowling

In our ongoing effort to manage carbs and our weights I have been using more turnips lately. At one time I considered turnips as one of my anti-guy foods. Then I found a Thomas Keller Roast Chicken with Root Vegetables recipe that uses them along with carrots, yellow onion, leeks, rutabagas, garlic, thyme and small red-skinned potatoes.

Turnips are low in carbs, potatoes are not. So I eliminated the potatoes and used more turnips. Rutabaga availability is hit and miss at my supermarket. (Extra foodie points are given for those who can tell the difference between turnips and rutabagas.) The roasted chicken juices, along with the garlic, thyme, onion cousins, olive oil, salt and pepper, layer on plenty of flavor to an otherwise pretty boring vegetable like turnips.

Another favorite, roasted vegetables with pesto, calls for fingerlings, which we love. Duh, it is still potatoes. So I now substitute turnips for the fingerlings with that recipe. Cheaper, too. The pesto peaks the flavor in this dish. This is not your traditional pesto recipe—no basil. No matter, I add some anyway but not the usual amount.

Last week, while vegetable gathering, I selected several turnips. First I had to wait for the sprinkler system to run. For you supermarket shoppers who know vegetables, they are always stacked neatly. I pay no mind to that and more often than not pick from the middle of the stack knowing what might ensue. Sure enough several turnips went tumbling. It was one of my better turnip bowling results. One rolled at least fifteen feet. Fortunately there were no small children in its path. These days they are safe and secure in the new SUV shopping carts—the ones so large that moms have to go outside just to turn around.

Guys and Onions

Onions, dry and green (scallions) and their extended family members, shallots, chives, and leeks, are low in calories. Some of them make the tear ducts leak.

Tears can add a bit of salty flavor but generally get in the way of meal preparation. The worst offenders are dry onions and shallots, both of which I use liberally.

Guys don’t tear up as much as women would prefer, but tearing up in the kitchen is only appropriate if you’ve scalded something or sliced off part of a finger. Then both tears and expletives are kosher.

I have read lots of suggestions about ways to prevent tearing up in the middle of meal preparation. I have tried most of them with varying degrees of success:

—Chill or freeze them thirty minutes prior to slicing and dicing.

—When peeling dry onions, do not cut off the root (where tear-jerking agitators are rooted) but slice up to it.

—Light a candle next to the onion. Supposedly the flame neutralizes the sulfuric fumes. Keep the kitchen lights on.

—Buy a small fan and blow away the sulfuric fumes while chopping.

The only method that works consistently is the small fan method. I found a cheap one at Target and have it as a permanent fixture on my countertop. Stoicism reigns. If size matters, buy a bigger fan. A one-foot diameter fan is probably overkill. It will blow over the wine glass.

When sautéing onions use the back burner and turn on the stove fan. You probably shouldn’t stick your head over the pan while sautéing.

To rid yourself of onion breath, eat some parsley or chew fennel seeds. Then use a toothpick to remove the parsley or fennel seeds from between your teeth. Then go to the dentist to remove the toothpick fragments, unless your dental plan doesn’t cover toothpick removals.

Kosher Turkey and Kosher Salt

Chalk this year’s Thanksgiving up to another notch on the learning tree. First, full disclosure - I am not Jewish. But I thought buying a kosher turkey seemed like a healthy idea. My local Trader Joe’s sold both a brined and non-brined kosher turkey. Since this was my year to switch from brining to a salted turkey, I bought a non-brined one.

Once home I searched fore and aft for the package of giblets, even sticking my head into the cavity. (It was a big bird.) No neck or giblets. Apparently those fowl parts are not kosher. I can live with that, though I’m unclear how turkeys live without them, or why the processor couldn’t have put the fowl parts into a hermetically sealed bag.

TJ’s loses a point from the consumer communication police for not informing us kosher-challenged Gentile-types.

Whole Foods gets a good-guy point for giving me a large neck and two portions of giblets, free of charge. Trust me, they made up for it from my other purchases.

Apparently kosher birds are already salted, but I had no way of knowing if it was as much as my salting recipe called for. Regardless, I followed the recipe – which called for kosher salt. Good call. The bird was the best ever – at least based on a survey of four.

I graded myself an “A” for the entire menu – based on the moans-and-groans meter. The frizzled leeks were fine, but next time I’m going for frizzled onions (sliced VERY thin, and deep-fried). I like leeks (onion’s second cousin) but I like the stronger taste of fried onions even better with this dish.

I used the turkey leftovers two ways – first as Turkey Salad Sandwiches (with pecans, red grapes, and tarragon), and second as a Turkey Pot Pie. Like the earlier “Not your Mama’s Green Bean Casserole” this could be renamed “Not Your Mama’s Turkey Pot Pie,” This recipe includes pearl onions, celery, cremini mushrooms, red boiling potatoes, leeks, and peas. It’s also a perfect use for leftover turkey stock. Now we have Turkey Pot Pie leftovers.

I’ve had so much turkey I’m beginning to sport a turkey waddle. (Also called turkey chin.) But that could be an age thing. I always thought waddle was how one walked when treating every day like a holiday.

I’m not sure about the weight gain on turkey day. I try not to torture myself daily. But it was a four-pounder holiday – the ultimate leftovers.