By Rachel Hergett EBS COLUMNIST
Last week’s festivities have me thinking about turkey dinners, and more specifically the gravy that ties the whole thing together. The promise of a big ol’ bird, stuffing, green bean casserole and mashed potatoes with gravy is always a treat, no matter the season.
One particular off-season turkey dinner, I watched as the hostess pulled a perfectly roasted turkey from the oven, the bottom of its throwaway aluminum pan heavy with drippings. She placed the turkey on top of the stove and then opened a nearby cupboard and reached inside for a couple packets of gravy. The horror!
Now, I have nothing against packaged gravy. My stocked kitchen houses packets of both a turkey and beef version. There are times when drippings aren’t available and a person needs gravy. It is a solid substitute. But to ignore a delicious pan of fresh turkey drippings was too much.
“Can I show you how to make a gravy?” I asked, a slight overstep in the name of our collective taste buds.
Gravy is essentially a thickened sauce made from the drippings of roast meats or a stock. It seems to have a place on every celebratory table. It is fire on mashed potatoes.
Making a gravy from drippings can be as simple or complex as you’d like. Basically, you thicken drippings on the stove with flour or cornstarch. Start by pouring the drippings into a bowl or glass measuring cup and skimming some of the fat from the top. Some fat is good, but too much will make the gravy separate. Ideally, you’ll have enough liquid left for your gravy, but you can add some stock if you have a mountain of mashed potatoes lying in wait.
Pour your dripping/stock back into the heated roasting pan (after you remove the bird). I like to use the roasting pan for gravy, because adding liquid back into a hot pan allows some of the caramelized bits stuck to the bottom to release and add their flavor into your concoction. This is known as deglazing.
The final step is to thicken the liquid. The simplest method is to make a slurry. Take flour or cornstarch and mix in a little bit of water until it’s a gooey paste. If your gloop is smooth, you will prevent lumps in the gravy. You’ll need a couple tablespoons of flour per cup of liquid, or one tablespoon of cornstarch. Some people will go fancy and make a roux, a fat and flour mixture that is heated and browned and used to thicken dishes like gumbo. Add your slurry or roux to your drippings/stock and stir over heat. Voila, pan gravy.
Gravy comes in countless forms, each delicious in its own way. In my family, we have biscuits and gravy every Christmas morning. While recipes have shifted depending on who is cooking, the base is a simple hamburger gravy, a form of Army slop my grandfather always called “SOS” or “S*** On a Shingle.” It’s similar to a sausage or country gravy, just a little cheaper and a little more brown.
I’m also a huge fan of sage cream gravy, a delicate version made with fresh sage, chicken stock and heavy cream that I first tried at Chico Hot Springs’ immaculate brunch buffet. Now that my family usually smokes a wild turkey for holidays, and no drippings are available, this too has become a staple of the table.
I bumped into the friends who hosted the off-season turkey dinner at Shine Beer Sanctuary in Bozeman last year. We chatted and played a cutthroat game of Candyland with their son. But before we parted, I had to ask one question of the hostess: Did she make gravy from drippings the next time she roasted a turkey?
No, she admitted. The packets were easier.
Well, it’s all gravy. Or is it?
Rachel Hergett is a foodie and cook from Montana. She is arts editor emeritus at the Bozeman Daily Chronicle and has written for publications such as Food Network Magazine and Montana Quarterly. Rachel is also the host of the Magic Monday Show on KGLT-FM and teaches at Montana State University.
