More From the Recipe Files: T-Shirt Turkey
WE’RE INTO TURKEY season, and you probably have more than a few recipes in your stash, as well as a few stories accompanying each recipe. And, if your recipes are like mine, some of them are better than others. Recently, in search of yet another method, I wiled away hours reading my mother-in-law’s recipe box. And whammo: What I found might shock you.
It’s the Paul Evans T-shirt method for cooking turkey, or so it says on the card, in my mother-in-law’s lovely script. I am not making this up. The nicest people, my in-laws, but wowza, they made some wild stuff, including that Spam Chop Suey. So here’s another to add to that maybe-you-will-maybe-you-won’t try this at home recipe list.
Paul Evans T-Shirt Turkey
- Set oven to 500 degrees
- Dip t-shirt in melted butter
- Drape over stuffed turkey
- As soon as it starts to cook well turn oven down to 325 degrees.
When I emailed my husband that I was back in his mother’s recipes, writing about this particular dish, he replied: “The Rev. Paul Evans was a BIG guy. He wore a big T-shirt. Could handle quite the turkey.”
The whole family is really lovely, and normal–I promise. Except perhaps for the Spam Chop Suey, and the T-Shirt Turkey, and – well, hmmmm.
Help me out, memoirists. Mine cannot be the only wild-turkey story out there. Send me the antidote: One simple, plain-as-you-please, method for roasting a turkey to counteract this madness, as well as the story behind it. Or, what the hell, go on: Send me another in the list of maybe-nots.
We soak a cheesecloth in butter and cover our turkey, but I could see how a t-shirt could work too, especially if the recipe comes from the Midwest. A t-shirt probably holds the butter even better than cheesecloth.
Marion, The age old question in the Nye family is how long to cook a turkey. I wrote about our annual debate last year on my blog … http://susannye.wordpress.com/2010/11/23/how-to-cook-a-turkey-roast-turkey-with-my-mom%E2%80%99s-stuffing-giblet-gravy/.
Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours – Susan
For the last eight years or so my brother has deep fried the turkey, so the aromas are outside instead of inside. It is absolutely delicious, and super fast. Guests are encouraged to bring their own turkey or chicken which he will cook to be taken back home (finally, ten o’clock p.m. turkey sandwiches are available, even if you are not hosting Thanksgiving!) This year, a flock of a dozen female wild turkeys wandered over to see what we were doing. They were not pleased, and said so.
Hi, Myrna, Susan and Winetipper.
Those turkey stories do bring us all out, don’t they?
I guess it’s because it’s a traditional meal, and nearly all of us has experienced the turkey — for better and for worse.
Thanks so much for stopping by, and come back soon.
I don’t think that people that know me can see me cleaning a wild turkey, guts in hand, for dinner. Fresh wholesome food, YES. But here I am looking down at one of two turkey downed with a single shot, for our dinner.
Living on farm land, for we really don’t have a farm, it was but isn’t now, we can still see a gang of turkeys foraging in our neighbors downed corn field. The only things here that are reminiscent of a farm, are the 200 year old barns, two geriatric old mares in a tumbled down fenced pasture, an arthritic black fat long haired dog, and aging black barn cat still patrolling his homestead. And that is how this day started.
I seeing a rafter of turkeys, called my husbands attention. Normally he isn’t ready to do anything but luck of the draw, he was within reach of his shotgun. It was damp and he gathered his camo-pancho, gun and set out to stalk his game. Behind the hedgerow, he saw. they saw. picked up their heads. he shot. he got in one blow, two turkeys.
Now here they were in front of me, warm, in their plumage, ready to give me a feast i wont easily forget. Looking at my husband, looking down at the turkeys. Looking at my husband, down at the turkeys…OK, now what?
He swiftly explained that we were NOT going to pluck these birds. Thank god. I can even imagine, feathers everywhere, and how time consuming the thought was. We were going to SKIN the turkeys. Skin?
Basically he said we would gut the birds, cut the wings and legs off and pull the breast from the bird. Now that didn’t hold with me. Waste the drumsticks? What are you thinking? No I was all about getting as much out of this bird as I was able.
Hands into the cavity I was pulling out guts, throwing them into a pail, and proceeding to pull the naked bird from his nest of feathers.
Still warm in my hands I took the carcass from the barn to the kitchen. Hmmm how to cook this?
Having an herb garden still producing outside, I started to scour the plot for smells and tastes that would make my bird. There we had the remnants of parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme…as the song goes. Wonderful.
Looking around the kitchen I spotted some apples, and knew what to do. I found bacon in the fridge and proceeded to cover the bird with bacon, fill the cavity with chopped herbs and apples. Remembered somewhere about cooking bags, yep there they were in the back of one of the cabinets, preheat the oven to 375 and was ready to go. Now I don’t remember how long it took to cook, I am privileged with an oven that tells when the food is done with a probe. But the most flavorful tastiest turkey I ever had, came out of that oven, not hours after having landed in our neighbors field. Fresh has a whole new meaning for wonderful.
Hi, Carole. And welcome to the blog.
This is fine piece of memoir. And it catches us totally by surprise. Skin? OH my, oh my. But you had me at “And that is how this day started.” Absolutely. And then, whammo: Skin. This is a joy to read. And it seems that the turkey was a joy to eat, as well. How marvelous. Write on, sister.
My husband’s aunt (from MO) taught me how to make turkey this way and I swear it comes out perfectly moist each and every time! I am from California and when I tell people how I make my turkey, I tend to get the strangest looks. LOL