Soup of the week, or what do we do with the turkey carcass?

 

Christmas night a lot of households will face that old question: what do we do with the turkey carcass? Some of my children roast the turkey in a disposable pan, and at the end of the meal just fold the carcass, picked as clean as reasonable, into the pan and pitch the whole thing. But I was raised by a mom who had lived through the Depression, and I grew up with a strict code of “Waste not, want not.” Mom boiled the turkey carcass. Mom also made what she called soup of the week, and it strikes me that turkey soup can easily be soup of the day, if not the week.

You really don’t need a recipe for turkey soup, though the internet is alive with them. You want to begin by simmering that carcass twenty-four hours or longer. This is admittedly something that can’t be done on a hot plate, at least not on my hot plate which automatically turns off after an hour. In my case, I’ll ask Jordan to simmer the bones in the main house. You want to add onion, celery, carrots (chunks are okay—no need to chop fine), maybe parsley, a bay leaf or two, salt and pepper so that the turkey stock has some flavor. Cover the bird with a generous amount of water, bring to a boil, and then simmer on low heat. Forever or so it seems. Your kitchen will smell wonderful.

When you are ready to make the soup, strain the broth off and finally discard that carcass and all the vegetables it cooked with. Then make your soup, and here’s where Mom’s soup of the week comes in. Don’t be limited to what a recipe says—create your own, using all those leftovers. Start with dicing leftover meat. Mashed potatoes? Stir them in—they’ll make the soup creamy. The ubiquitous green bean casserole? You might fish out the onion rings because by now they are soggy but dump in the rest of the casserole. Sweet potatoes are fine. So are almost any other vegetable you served—spinach, broccoli, turnips, carrots, peas, etc. Dressing will add great flavor. Taste for seasoning. If the broth is a bit bland, add a bouillon cube or some Better Than Bouillon. You’ll have a pot of soup that recreates Christmas dinner. And so easy! The only thing I probably wouldn’t put in the soup is cranberry in whatever form you served it. Or salad if you served one.

Creamy turkey soup with pasta

As I write, it is 15^o outside, which makes me think we’ll be eating soups for weeks to come. Want to adapt the soup of the week technique for other meals? Save even the tiniest bit of leftovers. If you’re feeding a family, you’ll probably accumulate enough leftovers for soup once a week. Rather than fill your freezer with a dab of this and a bite of that, make a soup container. Spinach casserole left one night? Put it in that container and freeze. Some chopped steak a few nights later? Dump it on the spinach and freeze. You need a bit of common sense here. Maybe start two soup containers—in Texas, we’d have one for chili, beans, things with Mexican or southwestern flavors, and another for meat-and-potatoes kinds of dishes.

To make soup: Defrost your odds and ends when you have enough. You’ll probably need something to bind them together as soup, so always keep concentrated broth (beef, chicken, or vegetable) on hand (I prefer Better Then Bouillon these days, but you can also use boxed broth or bouillon cubes) and canned, diced tomatoes. Use one or both. No matter what you use, soup of the week always seems to come out brown, but that’s okay. In Texas we’re known for brown food anyway—beef, beans, chicken-fried steak, and the like.

If you need to add to your soup pot, frozen corn is a great addition, along with frozen petite peas. Dice carrots, onion, celery (you can make a mire poix by sautéing those vegetables before adding); cooked potatoes, rice, egg noodles or even spaghetti will add bulk to your soup. I’ve read that adding cream cheese gives you a rich, creamy soup—but I have not tried. Let the soup simmer all day in a crockpot or low heat on a hot plate if you’re around to keep re-starting it. Just check occasionally that you don’t cook away all the broth. Season to taste—salt, pepper, garlic powder, herbs; cumin and oregano if you’re going for a chili or enchilada-based soup.

Leftovers? Use them to start a new soup. In fact, that bit of leftover Christmas turkey soup would make a great start on a new pot.

 

A hodgepodge and an old recipe

 

I thought at my age I knew how to cook, but it amazes me how many things I discover daily that make kitchen life and meals better (I feel the same way about computers!). Jordan is the one who figured out my latest lesson: because of the compact space of my toaster oven, when baking or roasting I need to put things on a lower rack and adjust the temperature and time downward. She pointed this out after I overcooked some pigs in a blanket—edible but not as soft as they should be. Her theory: not as much room for air and heat to circulate.

My other lesson was about using leftovers. Last week I made the best sheet pan chicken—pardon me for bragging but it was really good. I mean, the chicken was fine, but the vegetables—carrot, potatoes, and sweet onion—were out of this world. The trick was lots of salt, an olive oil drizzle, and then place the chicken right on the vegetables so that the meat juices drip down and flavor the potato, carrot, and onion. (See the recipe here: Gourmet on a Hot Plate: Chicken thighs and sheet pan cooking) We ate all the chicken but there was a generous helping of vegetables left over—I ate it for a vegetarian lunch the next day.

A couple of days later, I started to scramble some eggs, using olive oil instead of butter (I’m avoiding dairy these days, but that’s another story!). Just in time I remembered there was a tiny two bit of vegetables and some of the juices in the fridge. I dumped it all into two eggs, soft scrambled them, and had a winner of a dinner. (Honest, I did not do that rhyme on purpose.)

I’ll make that chicken again, although I have a new idea. Much as we liked the sheet pan chicken, we also like an herbed butter spatchcocked chicken that I make. So why not put a spatchcocked fowl on the vegetables? Some of my family prefer white meat, which I often find too dry, so this would satisfy everyone.

And the whole thing reminded me of a recipe I’ve cooked over the years. A friend once dubbed it the $8,000 Leg of Lamb because that’s what she said she’d pay for the recipe. You can have it free. It uses the same principle of letting meat juices drip into vegetables. If you like lamb, you’ll love it; if you don’t, just pass on by.

$8,000 leg of lamb with vegetables

About 5 white-skinned potatoes, peeled and sliced

3 onions, thinly sliced (these days I buy only sweet onions)

3 tomatoes, thinly sliced

Salt and pepper

Dried thyme

Chopped garlic to taste

¾ c. white wine

⅓ c. vegetable oil

6-7-lb. leg of lamb, excess fat trimmed but bone in

Grease a 9x13 pan and layer the bottom with sliced potatoes. Add onions and then tomatoes. Sprinkle each layer with salt, pepper, dried thyme, and a little chopped garlic. Pour white wine and vegetable oil over the vegetables. Cover pan with a cake or oven rack.

Season lamb to taste with salt and pepper and set it on the cake rack. Roast at 400° until meat thermometer registers 145° (about 75 minutes—the lamb will be medium rare; roast longer for better done, but don’t overdo it!). Turn the lamb every 20 minutes or so and baste with liquids from the vegetables. Remove from oven and let it collect itself before carving.