I’ve come to the realization lately that my bucket list revolves entirely around food. Now, that probably doesn’t come as a shock to most, but while some people have far-off places they dream of visiting, a Great American novel they plan to write, or a tall mountain peak they want to climb, my list is comprised mostly of a pile of recipes both virtual and real that I fully intend to try someday. You know, when I have the time, or the wherewithal. Perhaps at first glance my goals seem a bit less lofty than scaling the side of Mt. Kilimanjaro, but my recipe pile is quite large, menacing even, and has been gathering for years. At times it seems, at least to me, no less daunting than clawing my way up the side of a mountain. I suppose the upside is I don’t have to venture out of my kitchen to begin whittling away at my bucket list.
One such item on my foodie bucket list is homemade vanilla extract. Whenever I’ve mentioned this to people I’ve seen everything from the odd, slightly-cocked-head-look-of-dismay, to a thought bubble that reads: “Why would you want to do that?” to the unmistakable light of excitement flashing in their eye. Some people are intrigued; many are utterly surprised that making your own vanilla extract is even an option. My favorite reaction is: “I had no idea you could make your own vanilla. How do you do it?” When I tell people how simple it is, just fresh vanilla beans and vodka (or light rum if you prefer) and a good bit of patience, I’m usually met with: “Vodka!? I had no idea there was alcohol in vanilla extract!” To which I reply, “Don’t you remember that episode of Family Ties from back in the day, the one where a pre-movie star Tom Hanks plays Uncle Ned the alcoholic?" He goes on a binge in the middle of the night in the Keaton family kitchen and all he could find to get his buzz on was vanilla extract! It’s rare that they have any clue what I’m talking about. That’s when the head cocks even further to the side and the look of dismay gives way to true bewilderment. I’m absolutely positive their thought bubble now reads: “What are you blathering on about, Dave?” It’s those precise moments in life that I realize my brain-full of useless 80s pop culture factoids would have been better served paying attention in school. Oh well, I may have been a lousy student, but I was really good at Trivial Pursuit!
The one thing that always kept me from scratching Homemade Vanilla Extract off my bucket list was the expense. Let’s face it - vanilla beans are a small fortune. I’ve found them occasionally on sale, but inevitably, whenever I need one for a recipe, I end up paying anywhere between $6 and $8 a bean! Yikes! The expense is worth it, as there’s simply no substitute for the incredible flavor they lend to recipes and I’m a sucker for those beautiful black flecks of vanilla "caviar" in my baked goods. The saving grace is that I always add the scraped bean to a big jar of vanilla sugar I’ve been working on for years. At least that way I feel like I’m getting one more use out of them, but I just couldn’t bring myself to make a $176 bottle of vanilla extract! One day I decided to take to the internet to see if I could find a better deal on vanilla beans. After a quick search on Google I turned up a company in Michigan called Beanilla. They have an amazing selection of vanilla beans and products from all over the world. I was truly impressed with their selection and even more, their prices. I ended up ordering twenty five of their house beans aptly named Beanilla Vanilla Beans (a blend of Tahitian vanilla and Bourbon) for $22.99. Even with shipping they ended up being just over a dollar a bean! Having already admitted to a head filled with 80s sitcom knowledge more than one adept at math equations, even I know that’s a bargain.
The beans arrived in a vacuum-sealed package and they were so fragrant I could smell them the minute I opened the bubble wrapped envelope that cradled them. The beans were plump and soft and gorgeous! I plucked out three of them to use immediately in a recipe and the other twenty two beans are now macerating in vodka on my kitchen counter. It takes a few months for the “brew” to fully develop (and like a fine wine, it gets better with age), but it’s only been seven days and already the concoction is deeply-brown and whenever I take the cap off to smell it, I’m hit with the heady, intoxicating and unmistakable aroma of fresh, exotic vanilla.
My pile of recipes is still there, looming as big as ever like my own personal Mt. Kilimanjaro. Maybe someday I’ll have the wherewithal to scale it. Maybe I won’t, but at the very least I’ve crossed one more thing off my proverbial bucket list.
Homemade Vanilla Extract
This hardly qualifies as a recipe, it's more of a method, really. The extract will last indefinitely. Store in a cool dark place (your pantry is perfect) and as you use it and the beans, just keep topping off with more vodka and adding new beans as necessary. It's best to allow the extract to develop for at least a month, but the longer it sits, the deeper the intensity. The beans will be plump and moist and to extract all of those little flecks of vanilla "caviar," all you have to do is snip off the end of a bean and squeeze it into your recipe. Once you use the beans, allow them to dry at room temperature and place in a jar of sugar.
At least 12 vanilla beans Premium vodka, enough to cover the beans
Find a glass bottle or jar deep enough to allow the beans to sit upright. Place the vanilla beans in the jar and fill with enough vodka to cover the beans. That's it! Homemade vanilla extract.
Thanksgiving conjures up two thoughts for me: one of warm, fuzzy splendor and one of sheer panic. The first: a beautiful feast lovingly prepared and spread out on gorgeous, crisp linens, the turkey itself the regal, bronzed centerpiece of a relaxed and wonderful day spent with family and friends, while the aroma of perfectly spiced pumpkin pie floats through the house. It’s too idyllic for words, like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting.
Then, of course, the record scratches in the soundtrack of my mind and I quickly come crashing back to reality and remember what it’s really been like so many Thanksgivings before: Me, standing in the midst of chaos, panic-stricken, with giblet gravy splattered across my shirt, the smoke alarm going off, me trying to cook (or rather, trying not to burn) a picture-perfect meal for a house full of eager and hungry guests. All the while I’m fending off hyperventilation and a full-blown anxiety attack that leaves me teetering on the verge of a nervous breakdown, wandering the streets, all wild-eyed and whacked, babbling incoherently about mashed potatoes gone horribly wrong! It’s enough to make me vow never to put myself through that again. I need a stiff drink just thinking about it!
But inevitably the next year rolls around, and like childbirth (so I’m told) I forget the agony of the past, telling myself it wasn’t quite as bad as I remember. After all, no one was hurt! And before I know it, I find myself pondering this year’s Thanksgiving menu once again. This time, however, unwilling to let history repeat itself, I’m applying an altogether different plan of attack.
Like so much in life, the key to a successful Turkey Day lies in planning ahead. So this year I’m starting early in both the planning and preparation. I'm not doing an entire turkey, instead, I'm sticking to the breast. It's everyone's favorite anyway. Then, on the day of, there is little more to do than roast the turkey breasts, light a few candles, and eat myself into a tryptophan-induced coma. My game plan is simple as long as I (and you) remember three things:
1) Choose a foolproof menu that can (mostly) be made ahead
2) Let go of impossible standards of perfection, and
3) Always remember, it’s not life or death so make it fun.
Menu
Cranberry Kir Union Square Café Rosemary Cashews Wild Mushroom & Barley Soup Herb Stuffed Turkey Breasts with Pan Gravy Savory Herb & Gruyere Strata Vanilla-Scented Cranberry Sauce Steam-Sautéed Green Beans with Caramelized Shallots Yukon Gold & Sweet Potato Gratin Pumpkin Gooey Butter Cake with Cinnamon Whipped Cream
A (Mostly) Do-Ahead Thanksgiving Day for Eight
Up to one week ahead: Order the turkey breasts from the grocery store or butcher. Shop for nonperishable food items, beverages, and decorative elements like candles. Make rosemary cashews and store in an airtight container. Don't eat them all! Make iPod playlist for guests.
2 days ahead: Pick up the turkey breasts and other groceries; make the soup and the cranberry sauce.
1 day ahead: Caramelize shallots, wash and trim green beans, make Savory Herb & Gruyere Strata, Whip Cream, set table. Thanksgiving morning: Choose a sassy outfit for yourself. Take a deep breath and relax. You can do it!
2 hours ahead: Prepare, stuff, and roast turkey breasts. Bring cranberry sauce to room temperature.
1 1/2 hours ahead: Make potato gratin; bake along with the strata while turkey breasts are resting.
30 minutes ahead: Gently reheat soup.
15 minutes before guests arrive: Turn on music, light the candles, pop the champagne cork, put out cashews, and steam sauté green beans.
The rest of the day: Relax and give thanks.
Cranberry Kir
2 bottles good-quality champagne, well chilled 1 Bottle of pure cranberry juiceFresh cranberries for garnish
Fill a tall champagne flute 3/4 full with champagne. Top off with a splash of cranberry juice and garnish with cranberries. Cheers!
Union Square Café Rosemary Cashews
1 pound dry roasted whole cashews, unsalted 1 tablespoon unsalted butter, melted 1 teaspoon kosher salt 2 Tablespoons fresh rosemary, finely chopped 1 tablespoon dark brown sugar 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper, or to taste
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Spread the cashews out on a sheet pan and toast them in the oven for about 6 minutes until they begin to smell nutty and take on a bit of color. Meanwhile, in a large bowl combine the melted butter, salt, chopped rosemary, brown sugar, and cayenne pepper. Stir to combine. When the cashews come out of the oven toss them thoroughly with the butter mixture to coat. Serve warm.
Wild Mushroom & Barley Soup
Serves 8 2 ounces dried porcini mushrooms 3½ cups hot tap water ¼ cup good olive oil 1 medium onion, chopped 2 medium carrots, peeled and diced 2 ribs celery, diced 1 fresh bay leaf 1 pound crimini mushrooms, cleaned* and sliced 2 teaspoons fresh thyme, chopped Kosher salt & freshly cracked black pepper, to taste 1 quart beef stock ½ cup pearl barley ¼ cup flat-leaf parsley, chopped
In a medium bowl, soak porcini mushrooms in hot water for 20 minutes. Meanwhile, in a large stock pot or Dutch oven, heat the oil over medium heat and sauté the onion, carrots, celery and bay leaf until softened, about 5 minutes. Add the crimini mushrooms and the thyme. Cook until the mushrooms soften and give off their liquid, about 5 or 6 minutes. Season with salt and pepper, to taste.
Fish the porcini mushrooms out of the soaking liquid with a slotted spoon and chop roughly. Strain the liquid through a fine mesh sieve or a piece of cheesecloth to catch any grit that has collected on the bottom of the bowl. Add the soaking liquid to the pot along with the beef stock and barley. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to a gentle simmer until the barley is tender, about 40 minutes. Stir in the parsley and serve immediately.
*Never run mushrooms under water. They’re like little sponges and will soak up all that liquid and become waterlogged. Simply wipe them with a damp cloth, or dust them off with a pastry brush.
Herb-Roasted Turkey Breasts with Pan Gravy
Serves 4
FOR THE TURKEY
1 small onion, peeled and coarsely chopped 1 lemon, zested 12 fresh sage leaves Large handful fresh flat-leaf parsley 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for oiling pan 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more as needed Freshly cracked black pepper, to taste 6 fresh bay leaves 4 tablespoons unsalted butter 2 boneless turkey breast halves, skin on (about 2 to 2½ pounds each)
FOR THE PAN GRAVY
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/4 cup tablespoons all-purpose flour 1/4 cup dry white wine 2 to 3 cups chicken stock
Kosher salt & freshly cracked black pepper
1 tablespoon fresh sage, chopped
Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.
Oil a roasting pan and set it aside. Put the onion and the lemon zest into the bowl of a food processor and blitz until fine. Add the sage, parsley, olive oil, and 1 teaspoon salt and pulse until it forms a coarse paste. Place 2 of the bay leaves and the butter into a small pan and heat over medium-low heat until the butter is bubbling. Remove from the heat and set aside.
Place the turkey breasts on a work surface. Carefully run your fingers between the skin and the flesh from one end, being careful not to pull it completely off, creating a pocket. Season the turkey breasts generously with salt and pepper. Stuff half of the herb paste under the skin of each breast, and spread it evenly under the skin. Transfer the breasts to the roasting pan, and slide 2 bay leaves underneath each one. (The heat of the pan will release the bay leaf oils and flavor the breast.) Using a pastry brush, baste the breasts with half of the bay butter. Place the turkey in the oven and roast for 20 minutes.
After 20 minutes, baste the turkey breasts with the remaining butter, and decrease the oven temperature to 400 degrees. Roast for an additional 25 to 30 minutes, until cooked through, and a thermometer placed in the thickest part of the breast registers 160 degrees.
Remove turkey breasts from the oven, transfer to a platter, cover, and let rest for 10 minutes loosely tented under foil before carving. Meanwhile, to get on with the gravy, place the roasting pan over the burner on medium heat. Melt the butter and sprinkle the flour over the pan juices, and cook, stirring, for a few minutes to make a roux. Add the wine, and scrape the pan to lift the bits that are stuck to the bottom. Cook for a minute to burn off the alcohol, then, while stirring, pour in the chicken stock. Bring to a simmer, and stir until thickened. Season with salt and pepper and add the sage. Slice the turkey breast on the diagonal, and serve with warm gravy.
Savory Herb & Gruyere Strata
Serves 8
¼ cup unsalted butter, plus more for buttering pan 2 shallots, sliced 1/2 cup dry white wine 6 large eggs 2 1/2 cups heavy cream 1 teaspoon kosher salt 1 teaspoon white pepper 2½ cups Gruyere cheese (about 10 ounces) 2½ cups Swiss cheese (about 10 ounces) ¼ cup fresh chives, chopped ¼ cup fresh sage, chopped ¼ cup fresh marjoram, chopped 1 pound loaf of day old French bread, cut into ½-inch pieces
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Liberally butter a 7x11 inch glass baking dish and set aside. Saute shallots in butter until soft. Add wine and simmer for about 3 to 5 minutes to reduce the wine. Set aside.
Whisk eggs, cream, salt and pepper in a large bowl, add shallot wine mixture. Combine the cheese and herbs together. Add all but 1 cup cheese to the egg mixture then carefully fold in the bread pieces. Allow to stand a minimum of 1 hour in the refrigerator, or up to overnight.
Pour mixture into prepared pan and sprinkle with remaining cheese herb mixture. Bake bread pudding until golden and puffed, about 40 minutes. Cool 10 minutes.
Yukon Gold and Sweet Potato Gratin
Serves 4
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature 1 cup whole milk (scant) 1 large garlic clove, peeled and crushed 3/4 teaspoon. kosher salt 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground white pepper 1/8 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg 3/4 pound Yukon gold potatoes 3/4 pound sweet potatoes or yams 1 1/2 cups heavy cream
Preheat oven to 425 degrees.
Liberally butter the bottom of a rectangular baking dish with half of the butter and set aside. Place a small saucepan with the milk, garlic, salt, pepper, and nutmeg over low heat while you set about peeling and slicing the potatoes. A mandoline is perfect for this, but I usually opt for a really sharp butcher knife, mostly because I'm too lazy to drag out and wash any extra equipment. Slice the potatoes about an eighth of an inch thick, discarding the smallest slices. Don't wash the potatoes after slicing them the surface starch is indispensable.
Evenly arrange the potatoes in the bottom of the baking pan, one overlapping row at a time. Layer the following row about a third of the way over the previous row. Alternate rows of sweet and Yukon gold potatoes. Continue until the baking pan is neatly paved. It should look something like a shingled rooftop.
Bring the milk to a boil, fish out the garlic clove, and pour the milk over the potatoes. Cover the pan with aluminum foil and bake in the middle of the oven for about 15 minutes until most of the milk has been absorbed. Meanwhile, set the cream over low heat and bring to a boil. Pour the cream over the semi-cooked potatoes and dot the entire surface with the remaining butter.
Continue to bake, uncovered, for another 20 to 25 minutes until the potatoes are golden brown and spotted with darker, crisp areas. The potatoes will be dotted with thickened cream, especially between the slices.Allow the gratin to rest for 10 minutes before serving.
Vanilla- Scented Cranberry Sauce
Serves 8 to 10
2 cups freshly squeezed orange juice 1 cup sugar, or to taste 2 whole vanilla beans, split lengthwise, seeds scraped out 2 (12 ounce) bags fresh cranberries
In a medium saucepan combine orange juice, sugar and vanilla beans, stir over medium heat until sugar dissolves. Add the cranberries and bring to the boil. Reduce heat and simmer until berries pop, about 10 minutes. Remove from heat and allow to cool to room temperature. Fish the vanilla bean out and scrape the seeds into the sauce and mix well. Discard the bean. Refrigerate until ready to use.
Steam Suateed Green Beans with Caramelized Shallots
Serves 8
3 tablespoons good olive oil 6 large shallots, peeled & thinly sliced 2 1/2 pounds fresh green beans, cleaned and trimmed 1/3 cup water 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature Kosher salt & freshly cracked black pepper, to taste
In medium skillet, heat oil over low heat. Add shallots and cook, stirring frequently, for 15 minutes or until soft and deep golden brown. Don’t rush this part. It really does take about 15 minutes to develop the sugars and caramelize the shallots. Trust me, your patience will be rewarded. They key to success is low and slow.
Meanwhile, as the shallots are cooking away, get on with the green beans. In a large saucepan over high heat, combine the green beans and water. Cover saucepan with a tightly fitting lid and resist the urge to lift the lid and peek until steam begins to escape around the edges of the lid, about 5 minutes. Remove lid and sauté until beans are crisp-tender, about 2 more minutes. Remove from heat, drain and toss with the butter, caramelized shallots and season with salt and pepper. Serve immediately.
Pumpkin Gooey Butter Cake with Cinnamon Whipped Cream
FOR THE CAKE
1 package Butter Recipe Golden cake mix 1 large egg 8 tablespoons unslated butter, melted
2 cups heavy cream 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract 3 tablespoons sugar 1 tablespoon of cinnamon, or to taste
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Combine the cake mix, egg, and butter and mix well with an electric mixer. Pat the mixture into the bottom of a lightly greased 13 by 9-inch baking pan. To make the filling: In a large bowl, beat the cream cheese and pumpkin until smooth. Add the eggs, vanilla, and butter, and beat together. Next, add the confectioners’ sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and mix well. Spread pumpkin mixture over cake batter and bake for 40 to 50 minutes. Make sure not to overbake as the center should be a little gooey. Serve with fresh cinnamon whipped cream.
Private chef and cookbook author David Lawrence grew up in a house where the kitchen was always abuzz with activity. He learned early the simple pleasures of cooking and spent years assisting in his Mother’s kitchen, a woman he affectionately describes as a Martha Stewart incarnate, minus the chic poncho and clunky ankle bracelet! From then on David knew his mission was clear, he wanted to feed and entertain people.
David’s cookbook, Boy Eats World! A Private Chef Cooks Simple Gourmet, (Lake Isle Press) is all about having fun in the kitchen and demystifies cooking for the Atari generation. David’s humorous style and easy to follow recipes will help even the most timid cook feel like a kitchen rock star!
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I’ve come to the realization lately that my bucket list revolves entirely around food. Now, that probably doesn’t come as a shock to most, but while some people have far-off places they dream of visiting, a Great American novel they plan to write, or a tall mountain peak they want to climb, my list is comprised mostly of a pile of recipes both virtual and real that I fully intend to try someday. You know, when I have the time, or the wherewithal. Perhaps at first glance my goals seem a bit less lofty than scaling the side of Mt. Kilimanjaro, but my recipe pile is quite large, menacing even, and has been gathering for years. At times it seems, at least to me, no less daunting than clawing my way up the side of a mountain. I suppose the upside is I don’t have to venture out of my kitchen to begin whittling away at my bucket list.
One such item on my foodie bucket list is homemade vanilla extract. Whenever I’ve mentioned this to people I’ve seen everything from the odd, slightly-cocked-head-look-of-dismay, to a thought bubble that reads: “Why would you want to do that?” to the unmistakable light of excitement flashing in their eye. Some people are intrigued; many are utterly surprised that making your own vanilla extract is even an option. My favorite reaction is: “I had no idea you could make your own vanilla. How do you do it?” When I tell people how simple it is, just fresh vanilla beans and vodka (or light rum if you prefer) and a good bit of patience, I’m usually met with: “Vodka!? I had no idea there was alcohol in vanilla extract!” To which I reply, “Don’t you remember that episode of Family Ties from back in the day, the one where a pre-movie star Tom Hanks plays Uncle Ned the alcoholic?" He goes on a binge in the middle of the night in the Keaton family kitchen and all he could find to get his buzz on was vanilla extract! It’s rare that they have any clue what I’m talking about. That’s when the head cocks even further to the side and the look of dismay gives way to true bewilderment. I’m absolutely positive their thought bubble now reads: “What are you blathering on about, Dave?” It’s those precise moments in life that I realize my brain-full of useless 80s pop culture factoids would have been better served paying attention in school. Oh well, I may have been a lousy student, but I was really good at Trivial Pursuit!
The one thing that always kept me from scratching Homemade Vanilla Extract off my bucket list was the expense. Let’s face it - vanilla beans are a small fortune. I’ve found them occasionally on sale, but inevitably, whenever I need one for a recipe, I end up paying anywhere between $6 and $8 a bean! Yikes! The expense is worth it, as there’s simply no substitute for the incredible flavor they lend to recipes and I’m a sucker for those beautiful black flecks of vanilla "caviar" in my baked goods. The saving grace is that I always add the scraped bean to a big jar of vanilla sugar I’ve been working on for years. At least that way I feel like I’m getting one more use out of them, but I just couldn’t bring myself to make a $176 bottle of vanilla extract! One day I decided to take to the internet to see if I could find a better deal on vanilla beans. After a quick search on Google I turned up a company in Michigan called Beanilla. They have an amazing selection of vanilla beans and products from all over the world. I was truly impressed with their selection and even more, their prices. I ended up ordering twenty five of their house beans aptly named Beanilla Vanilla Beans (a blend of Tahitian vanilla and Bourbon) for $22.99. Even with shipping they ended up being just over a dollar a bean! Having already admitted to a head filled with 80s sitcom knowledge more than one adept at math equations, even I know that’s a bargain.
The beans arrived in a vacuum-sealed package and they were so fragrant I could smell them the minute I opened the bubble wrapped envelope that cradled them. The beans were plump and soft and gorgeous! I plucked out three of them to use immediately in a recipe and the other twenty two beans are now macerating in vodka on my kitchen counter. It takes a few months for the “brew” to fully develop (and like a fine wine, it gets better with age), but it’s only been seven days and already the concoction is deeply-brown and whenever I take the cap off to smell it, I’m hit with the heady, intoxicating and unmistakable aroma of fresh, exotic vanilla. 
At least 12 vanilla beans
