Saturday, November 28, 2009

Stuffing and other such matters

Stuffing is a bit like underwear. When you are little, you take what your mother gives you. It may inform your later choices. It may cause a deep-seated aversion later in life. But as a youngster, you are a captive audience to your parents' stuffing whims.

Stuffing is also a bit like meatloaf. You can put anything in it, for better or for worse. When I was a child, my then unmarried uncle had us over for dinner. Meatloaf was the cuisine du jour, and it came as quite a surprise to all that it was actually very good. My dad, being my uncle's brother, commended him, "This is pretty good, Jerry. What did you put in it?"

"Everything left in my refrigerator, " he replied, smiling proudly.
"Sour cream, carrots, raisins, mayonnaise, bread, beer...."

I watched my little sister hold back a gag. She was the child who did not like the food on her plate touching and insisted until the age of 14 that all foods went to separate sections in her stomach. Conveniently the dessert section of her stomach, much like a David Hasselhoff concert, always seemed to be empty.

I'm not sure what bothered me more. The fact that I liked the meatloaf, or the fact that you could hide any food in that meatloaf. I became convinced that meatloaf was some sort of culinary conspiracy, capable of hiding anything within its meaty center. But either way, it took another 25 years for me to eat meatloaf again.

Now, I was raised on sausage stuffing. My Italian grandmother made stuffing that was 100% meat: sausage to be specific. My mother added her own mom-tastic blend of bread, Stove-Top, mushrooms, veggies and spices. Over the years I've been working on my own stuffing, and it does, of course, contain sausage. To me stuffing without sausage is like a pool without water. You could... but really, what's the fun in that?

There have, of course been many mis-stuffs along the way. The year of white wine in the stuffing was not a good one. And the year of brioche also tasted pretty terrible. There was another year where I decided "rustic" was the order of the day, but the super large cubes didn't say "rustic"; they screamed "inside out sandwich".

And so it is with no small degree of pride that I present:

The Trial and Error Contessa's Thanksgiving Sausage Stuffing
(because, as always, being barefoot is overrated)

This recipe makes a 14x10 glass pan of stuffing as well as a small 9 x 9 glass pan. It serves a small army.

Bread:
I'm a big fan of plain and simple. But I took a rule from the strata rule book which says: dry out your bread to get rid of the bready-water so that it will soak up all your stuffing-y goodness.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Slice 2 French baguettes into 1/2 inch cubes. Place cubes in a rimmed sheet pan in a single layer and toast for approximately 20-25 minutes. Don't layer it, or your under layers will stay soft. It may take a couple of pans to get everything toasted.

Sausage and Veggies:
Uncase and saute one pound of spicy Italian pork sausage and one pound of sweet Italian pork sausage. As I put it into the pan, I rip it into 1 inch chunks which makes breaking it up a little easier, instead of chasing large chunks around the pan with a wooden spoon. Cook sausage until just slightly pink in center. Cooking to fully done will make for VERY done sausage in your stuffing. Put your stuffing in a big huge mixing bowl. Don't even think about mixing your stuffing in your glass pan. It is a bad idea and results in stuffing stuck to your pan, not to mention a mess.

When the sausage is done, use the fat left from the sausage to saute your chopped veggies. You can play around with this. I use 3 (peeled, chopped) carrots, (4 stalks, chopped) celery and (2 large, chopped) onion, but certainly this is up for grabs. As this sautes, add chifonnaded sage (about 6-8 leaves), fresh thyme (2-3 tablespoons), and 2 T chopped rosemary. I also add some red pepper flakes, though this is purely optional.

When veggies are tender, add to big fat mixing bowl.

Liquids and Extras:
Now this is a matter of taste, for sure, but I like a moist stuffing, but not a custardy stuffing and I certainly love a crispy top. Because of this I combine 3 cups give or take of chicken stock and 1-2 cups of heavy cream together and then add these to the stuffing. Fold in the liquids until all the bread pieces are moist but not swimming in liquid.

This is when I add extra yummies. This year I added 1 cup of dried cranberries, 2 chopped and peeled Granny Smith apples, 1 cup of pecans (toasted in a hot pan, tossing frequently, until slightly browned and nutty smelling, but not burned!) and 1/2 - 1 cup of chopped flat leaf parsley. (No, please don't use that curly parsley. It's useless.)

This is when I add salt and pepper to taste, because once you add your raw eggs, you probably aren't going to want to do the "taste" part of "to taste". Taste some bread with a bit of sausage because the sausage adds a lot of salt and if you don't taste it with the bread, you will over-salt your stuffing.

Whisk 4 large eggs together and add to the mix as well. Spread this mixture into buttered ceramic or glass pans. These can be refrigerated up to 12 hours. Make sure that you take your stuffing out of the refrigerator about 45 minutes prior to cooking so that it comes to room temperature.



When your turkey comes out to turkey perfection, increase your oven head to 425 degrees. Once heated, cook your stuffing, covered with foil, for 35 minutes. Remove foil for the final 15 minutes of your cooking if you like a crispy top.




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