I suppose we've all heard tales of families that have that one relative who manages to overindulge at holiday gatherings. We didn't have that problem in my family. Aside from the underage kids or a few folks on-the-wagon, we ALL were that relative. It was pretty much a level playing field. Thanksgiving, in particular, was always very spirited.
Early mornings on our rural western Kentucky farm were usually quiet and peaceful. When the sun cracked trhough the trees and kissed the sleepy fields, only the muted sounds of hissing coffee or cattle chomping in a nearby field disturbed the quiet. Thanksgiving mornings were a whole other story. While the surrounding beauty of the countryside played out in form, everything else had a different tone. The mornings were crisper, the shadows longer, and the trees danced with multicolored leaves. Although the coffee still brewed and the cattle chomped, those familiar sounds were muffled by the quiet hubbub in the kitchen. Thanksgiving morning. Silent prep. Lots of busy work. By mid morning, the subdued chaos was shattered by cracked ice hitting empty mason jars for the forthcoming bloody marys made with cellar tomato juice we canned from summers past.Yep, that's how we rolled. To this day, I still believe we put up tomato juice just for Thanksgiving morning. After obligatory glasses of boxed red wine hit the table for Thanksgiving dinner, bourbon eventually made its entrance. While soft drinks and windowsill sun-brewed tea were at the ready, we were bourbon people. My father loved his bourbon.
Although our bourbonized Thanksgivings on the farm are long gone, I hold fast to memories of those crisp autumn mornings, quilted trees, and the serenity of the dew-kissed countryside.
Nowadays, on Thanksgiving, I let the turkey drink the bourbon.
Drunken Turkey
Bourbon all the way.
Inside and out.
To wet brine, dry brine, or inject? I've done them all. Without the luxury of time and space, I'm on team injection. It's quick, simple, and dependable.
A shot of bourbon.
Inside.
Bourbon all the way.
Inside and out.
To wet brine, dry brine, or inject? I've done them all. Without the luxury of time and space, I'm on team injection. It's quick, simple, and dependable.
A shot of bourbon.
Inside.
I rinsed and dried a 15 pound young organic turkey and set it aside. After combining 1 cup melted unsalted butter, 1/4 cup chicken stock, 1/4 cup Makers Mark bourbon, 1/4 cup fresh squeezed blood orange juice, 1/4 cup Evans Orchard fresh apple cider, 1 teaspoon dried rubbed sage, 2 teaspoons salt, and 1 teaspoon ground black pepper, I loaded a large turkey injector with the marinade and carefully injected the breasts, thighs, and legs in several locations. After the meat plumped from the shots, I slathered the flesh with softened butter, showered it with salt, and slipped the turkey into the refrigerator to marinate overnight.
After bringing the boozed up turkey to room temperature, I stuffed the cavity with 1 quartered Casey County onion, 2 quartered Pulaski County Macintosh apples, 1 quartered blood orange, 2 stalks celery, fresh parsley, fresh sage, and fresh thyme. In lieu of a roasting rack, I lined the bottom of a large roasting pan with fresh unpeeled whole carrots, celery stalks, and trimmed leeks. After tying the turkey legs together for an even cook, I nestled the turkey onto the vegetable rack, and added 1 cup chicken stock, 1/2 cup apple cider, and a 1/4 cup bourbon to the bottom pan before sliding the turkey into a 350 degree preheated oven to roast for roughly 3 1/2 hours. Being mindful to not over brown the skin too early, I covered the breasts with aluminum foil after an hour and basted the turkey with the pan juices every 30 minutes.
Outside.
I combined 1/2 cup Makers Mark bourbon, 1/2 cup fresh apple cider, 1/2 cup fresh squeezed blood orange juice, 1/2 cup brown sugar, 1/4 cup apple cider vinegar, and 1/2 cup fresh milled Oberholzer's Kentucky Sorghum (form the Morgan County Sorghum Festival). After bringing the mix to a boil, I reduced the heat and let it simmer until it softened into a loose sticky glaze.
After the turkey reached 155 degrees, I started brushing the glaze over the skin every 15 minutes.
When the internal temp hit the 165 degree mark measured in the deepest part of the breast meat, I pulled the bourbon burnished turkey from the oven, hit it with flaked sea salt for crunch, and let it rest for 20 minutes before nestling it over an aromatic bed of fresh herbs.
Thanksgiving turkey.
Bourbonized.
After bringing the boozed up turkey to room temperature, I stuffed the cavity with 1 quartered Casey County onion, 2 quartered Pulaski County Macintosh apples, 1 quartered blood orange, 2 stalks celery, fresh parsley, fresh sage, and fresh thyme. In lieu of a roasting rack, I lined the bottom of a large roasting pan with fresh unpeeled whole carrots, celery stalks, and trimmed leeks. After tying the turkey legs together for an even cook, I nestled the turkey onto the vegetable rack, and added 1 cup chicken stock, 1/2 cup apple cider, and a 1/4 cup bourbon to the bottom pan before sliding the turkey into a 350 degree preheated oven to roast for roughly 3 1/2 hours. Being mindful to not over brown the skin too early, I covered the breasts with aluminum foil after an hour and basted the turkey with the pan juices every 30 minutes.Outside.
I combined 1/2 cup Makers Mark bourbon, 1/2 cup fresh apple cider, 1/2 cup fresh squeezed blood orange juice, 1/2 cup brown sugar, 1/4 cup apple cider vinegar, and 1/2 cup fresh milled Oberholzer's Kentucky Sorghum (form the Morgan County Sorghum Festival). After bringing the mix to a boil, I reduced the heat and let it simmer until it softened into a loose sticky glaze.After the turkey reached 155 degrees, I started brushing the glaze over the skin every 15 minutes.
When the internal temp hit the 165 degree mark measured in the deepest part of the breast meat, I pulled the bourbon burnished turkey from the oven, hit it with flaked sea salt for crunch, and let it rest for 20 minutes before nestling it over an aromatic bed of fresh herbs.
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