Thanksgiving Boot Camp at the North Market: Brined Turkey and Pumpkin Pie

On Sunday, Steve and I headed to the North Market for a special Thanksgiving Boot Camp cooking class with Robin Davis, food editor of the Columbus Dispatch.

We were excited to take a cooking class together, our first in a few years, and were eager to get some tips from an expert to improve our Christmas turkey (at Thanksgiving we are sous-chefs in Steve's Mom's kitchen). But mostly, we were just giddy to have Thanksgiving early. After all, since Halloween was early here, it made sense that Thanksgiving would be early too.

This was the first hands-on cooking class at the North Market (other classes were larger demonstrations), and it was intimate with just six students to keep it manageable. And two of those six people turned out to be no other than Amy Turn Sharpe from Doubleh-vay and Diane from Momo Fali, two Ohio mom bloggers I had been chatting with via Twitter but had never met IRL. Needless to say, I'll be stalking these two very cool women in the very near future in my quest for local friends.

In a group this small, there was no place to hide, and no time to waste with chit chat, so we got down to work.

First we watched Robin vigorously rub a gorgeous turkey with some butter and spices. As she massaged the bird, we talked brining. Steve and I both grilled her about our past brining failures and we concluded that our mistake had been brining for too long, for 24 hours rather than just 12. Our salt to water ratio was also probably off, because we used a container that was too small. We walked away with a huge 5-gallon painter's bucket that we will line with a garbage bag for our next brining experiment.

Per Robin, the basic brining solution should be: 2 1/2 gallons of water, 1 3/4 cups of kosher salt, 1 cup of sugar. (Note that kosher salt and table salt are not interchangeable. Table salt is much saltier.)

She then decisively popped that turkey in the oven, doused it with apple cider and we moved on to our next task, coincidentally another big failure of mine: pie crust.

The pie crust ingredients were similar to mine, so it wasn't until the rolling out part of the process that I figured out my problem: the motion. Over the years, I adopted what I thought was stud-baker motion, going back and forth a few times in all directions before spinning the dough to repeat the process. As soon as Robin convinced me to resist the urge to rock my rolling pin back and forth, my pie crust began rolling out beautifully.

And after all the cooking was done, we sat down to eat. The bird tasted as beautiful as it looked, and the gravy, with its subtle sweet apple overtone, was amazing. You can find the recipe at Robin's Dispatch blog, just douse the turkey with cider instead of broth.

But my favorite part was the dessert: pumpkin pie. Believe it or not, I had never tasted pumpkin pie before. Our Thanksgiving table is always so filled with so many delicious options that I always bypassed this distinctly American dessert. But after tasting this silky and delicately spiced dessert, I won't be skipping over pumpkin pie anymore.

Robin Davis' Perfect Pumpkin Pie
Makes 1 pie (about 8 servings)
Crust
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons of sugar
1/4 teaspoon of salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch cubes
3 tablespoons of cold water

Filling
1 can (15 ounces) pure pumpkin (make sure this is not a can labeled "pie filling"
2/3 cup packed brown sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
Pinch of ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon of salt
3 large eggs
1 1/4 cups of whipping cream

To make crust:
Mix flour, sugar and salt in a food processor. Add butter. Pulse until coarse meal forms.
Gradually blend in enough water to form moist clumps. Gather dough into a bowl; flatten into disk. Refrigerate 1 hour or up to 2 days.

Position rack in lower third of oven. Preheat to 425 degrees Fahrenheit. Place a baking sheet in the oven while it heats.

Roll out dough on a lightly floured surface to 13-inch round. Transfer to a deep dish pie pan. Fold edges under and crimp, forming a high border.

To make filling:
Puree pumpkin in processor. Add brown sugar and spices. Add eggs 1 at a time, pulsing after each addition. Gradually add cream, processing just until blended.

Place crust on preheated baking sheet. Pour in filling. Bake 15 minutes.

Reduce oven temperature to 350 degrees. Bake until edges are puffed and center is set, about 45 minutes. Cool. (Pie can be made 1 day ahead. Cover and refrigerate.)

You're Invited... to the See Mom Run NJ Book Launch Party

I've raved before on this blog and others about the magical powers of Beth Feldman. This woman is such an inspiration to me... I can't even begin to tell you. She seems to collect other fabulous women everywhere she goes and is an amazing connector. Her drive, energy and connections are limitless, and she puts them to work inspiring mothers and women to follow their passions and make their dreams come true.

I'm incredibly excited to be part of Beth's latest project, the See Mom Run humor anthology, 32 side-splitting essays from the world's most harried moms. In addition to myself and Beth, contributors include Tracy Beckerman (author of widely syndicated column Lost in Suburbia), Dawn Meehan (author of the Because I Said So blog as well as one of the most forwarded funniest emails ever about an ebay listing of a Pokemon card), Liz Gumbinner (force behind Mom-101 and Cool Mom Picks), Melissa Chapman (columnist for Staten Island Advance and contributor to Time Out NY Kids), Cheryl Lage (author of the Twinfatuation blog and the Twinspiration book, Jen Singer (author of MommaSaid.net and the Stop Second Guessing Yourself book series) and too many other hilarious women to list here. As you can see, I'm in such amazing company that I'm still pinching myself to be so lucky to be included.

This Friday I'll be heading back to New Jersey to celebrate the launch at a free reading at the Ridgewood Y. Melissa, Jen, Tracy, Beth and myself will all be reading from our essays. The event is from 7-9 on Friday night and I really hope that all of you tri-state area readers will join us. I promise some great laughs involving naked photo shoots, infants used as mops, severe sleep deprivation and other tales from the edge of motherhood.

If you live in Texas, Arkansas, or California, fear not. You can also get your own hot copy of See Mom Run at Amazon today for less than $10. But if you're anywhere near Ridgewood, NJ on Friday night, come on down and say hello.

You Never Know When the Interview Will Strike

In my old lives, interviewing used to be so simple, so cut and dried. I would hear about a job that sounded interesting. In college, it would be by glancing at the career services bulletin board on my way to class. At work, it would be through whispered conversations with headhunters or by reading the colorful internal postings newsletter. Either way, the next step was the same.

I would submit my resume, one little sheet of paper summarizing my life's achievements. And that same little piece of paper would then either serve as the framework for the resulting interview or would join other pieces of fancy paper lining the trashcan.

In my new life as a freelance writer and blogger, interviews are a more nebulous affair. They can crop up at any time, in the most unexpected places, with the most unlikely people. I've made contacts about potential writing gigs at playgroup, at the coffee shop, and even at a football game. You never know who might need a writer or might know someone interested in food or parenting content.

I used to be shy about my budding career on the fringes of my life as a suburban mom. I used to keep quiet about my blogging, my writing, and my dreams. But I've learned that a name of a common acquaintance can help a query stand out in an editor's overflowing inbox.

I no longer keep quiet about my double life. I carry business cards in my purse proudly labeling myself as a freelance writer, blogger, and foodie mom. I don't hesitate to pass them out, always ready for that impromptu interview, for that unexpected contact, even when I'm sweaty and smelly in old workout clothes.

As you may have guessed, tonight's Sunday Scribblings prompt was "interview." Head on over to see what others did with it.

Popcorn Factory Giveaway

Today for giveaway I have a sweet treat to share: a two gallon tin of three flavors of popcorn from the Popcorn Factory.

When we received our own tin to sample this week, the kids were besides themselves with excitement. They're big popcorn fans and couldn't wait to crack open the huge tin. There was a section for each child: cheddar, caramel, and plain. The popcorn was fresh and crunchy - a huge hit.

To win your own two gallon tin, leave a comment here with your favorite popcorn flavor before Friday, November 23. I'll select the winner at midnight that night.

As usual, you can get extra chances to win by:

• linking to this contest on your blog,
  
• subscribing to my Chefdruck Musings feed
• subscribing to my Chefdruck Reviews feed.
• tweeting this contest.
  

Just remember to leave me a different comment to get credit for each extra entry.

In honor of its 30th anniversary and National Popcorn Month, The Popcorn Factory has launched a “30 Gift Giveaway” sweepstakes. The sweepstakes, which runs now through November 23, 2009, will provide one lucky grand prize winner with 30 gifts for their friends and family (up to a $6,000 value) just in time for the holiday season.

For more information on the “30 Gift Giveaway” sweepstakes, please visit the Popcorn Celebrations site.

Throwing Away the Parenting Books

I'd be fine, if it weren't for those curls.

When I was pregnant with Bella, I collected parenting books. I read them like I was cramming for a final, with highlighters and post it notes. I even brought a few in to the labor and delivery room, to study right up until the very last minute.

After nine months of sleep deprivation with Jack, I reached for the comforting words of Dr. Ferber and Dr. Sears again. I read the chapters on sleep over and over again and found the strength I needed to sleep train my baby. And while I was at it, I even leveraged what I read to re-sleep train my toddler in her new big girl bed.

And then I had a third child. A beautiful little princess child with golden curls and a bewitching smile.

I was sure that I had this parenting thing down pat. Thoroughly confident that I knew all I needed to know, I threw out the parenting books. Well, not threw out exactly,just gave them away to parents who needed them more via paperbackswap.

And that's how I'm suddenly breaking all the rules.

Every night this week, I've been putting the older two children to sleep. A relatively easy task as they were so well trained. And then I've been walking into my baby's room, stepping into her new big girl bed, getting under the covers with her, and snuggling into her soft curls until she falls asleep.

I know. I know. I know that I absolutely should not be doing this. I'm creating a monster. A habit that will be brutal to break. But I just can't help myself. Maybe it's because she's the baby. The last one. Maybe it's because I'm lonely. But it's probably just because I'm addicted to those curls.

But I can't stop. Someone, anyone, please shake some sense into me.

You'll Swear This Mushroom Soup Has Cream in It... But It Doesn't

Mushrooms gross many people out, but I find them to be fascinating and beautiful. I love how they spring up daringly out of nowhere, little puffs of white on a brilliant fall lawn, twisted in impossible positions on a tree in the woods, and even dangerously enticing with bright red polka dots on a boring old log.

Like so many of my tastes, I inherited my love of mushrooms from my mother. She is such a devotee that she forages through the woods of the Loire Valley when the weather gets damp. She calls me whenever she happens upon some morilles (morels) or cepes (porcini) and raves about the aroma as she sautees them in butter. I stand in my kitchen, an ocean between us, hoping that her next call will not be from the emergency room. Because I am not that brave (some would say foolhardy), I limit myself to the safety and expense of supermarket mushrooms.

I acted like a forager this week as I stood in front of the mushroom display at Whole Foods. I grabbed an assortment of mushrooms and brought them home to make this flavorful cream-less cream of mushroom soup. The mushrooms give it the creamy texture, but there is no fattening cream added. The earthy and rich flavor of this soup makes me happy that it is fall.

Cream-less Cream of Mushroom Soup

Ingredients:

1 large shallot, minced

1/2 white or yellow onion, minced

1 large carrot, peeled and chopped

1 cup of shiitake mushrooms

1 cup of Baby Bella mushrooms

1 cup of regular white button mushrooms

2 strips of bacon

3 tablespoons of butter

1/3 cup of sherry

4 cups of chicken stock

1. Melt the butter in a large stock pot. Add the shallot, onion, carrot and bacon and cook on medium heat, for about 10 minutes, until the bacon is cooked and the vegetables are soft and translucent.
2. Add the mushrooms and saute for 5 to 7 minutes, until the mushrooms are bright and softened.
3. Add the sherry and saute for 5 minutes until it has mostly boiled off but imbued the mushrooms with a delicious aroma. Add salt and pepper at this stage.
4. Pour in the chicken stock and simmer for 30 to 45 minutes.
5. Puree the resulting soup very well.
6. Serve with a dollop of creme fraiche or a swirl of heavy cream.

From Ghost to Ninja Sage

"Mommy," he said, "I want to be a ghost."

How nice, I thought. An easy, classic costume. Just one white sheet, a few snips of the scissors, and I'm home free.

But it turns out that my crafting skills are so limited that even a ghost costume is challenging. How to make it stay in place? How to line the eyes up right? How to get a five year old to stand still long enough for me to cut and measure?

The entire project was a challenge, procrastinated until the last possible minute, right before trick or treating.

Our simple ghost became a ninja ghost when a long strip of sheet tied around his head secured his eyeholes in place. Then later, when his schoolteachers deemed the costume too unwieldy, our ninja ghost was reborn as a religious sage/ninja angel.

But even with significant wardrobe challenges, the candy and chocolate loot was still sweet.

Happy Halloween and happy Wordful, Wordless and Way-back wednesday!

This is an original Chefdruck post. Please don't copy without my permission.