Best turkey gravy photo courtesy of Daring Gourmet.
I’ve been so focused on covering more than four years’ of Shasta County’s political mayhem and extremism that I almost forgot how to write a food story. Bear with me today. I’m rusty.
Never mind that Shasta County’s final election results are still unknown. Never mind that I was assaulted by a Shasta County Sheriff’s deputy during the Nov. 7 Shasta County Board of Supervisors meeting. Click here to read all about it.
Yes, I’ve filed a formal complaint. Waiting for a response.
Never mind that at that same meeting, a diminutive woman who favors Strawberry Shortcake attire was handcuffed and arrested (in the dark) and booked in the Shasta County Jail for sitting down on the floor in an act of peaceful civil disobedience.
Never mind that although later, at the same meeting, a row of militia members suddenly converged upon the board chambers and stood at the back of the room, the board chair didn’t say a peep about their intimidating presence.
A variety of male militia members showed up and lined the back wall during the Thurs., Nov. 7 Shasta County Board of Supervisors meeting. Photo source: Facebook.
Never mind about all that.
Today, I’m turning my focus to cooking, and a related story about my incredible encounter with my favorite famous chef, Julia Child.
But first, let’s talk gravy. Thursday, I brought my homemade gravy to an extended-family Thanksgiving dinner. I love making gravy, but I also love taking some pressure off the generous host, relieved of the mess and hassle of making gravy from turkey drippings so close to dinnertime.
Son Joe made the perfectly mashed Yukon Gold potatoes. He was home for a few days from his studies at UC Berkeley. Yes, I’m shamelessly proud enough to say, whenever I can squeeze it into any conversation — that Joe — who co-founded this website, attends UC Berkeley.
A News Cafe co-founder Joseph Domke having a blast as a UC Berkeley engineering student.
It was great sharing a kitchen with Joe again, and having him there as my gravy taster. All three of my adult kids are great cooks. But I’ve spent more time cooking with Joe, perhaps because he’s the youngest. Our single most difficult team cooking challenge was in March of 2017 when we — massively over-confident home bakers — created my nephew/Joe’s cousin’s five-tier wedding cake. Each tier had four layers. Talk about insanity!
Doni and son Joe Domke breathe a sigh of relief that Aaron and Erin Shively’s wedding cake is finished and still standing. Photo by Shelly Shively. March 2017.
Neither of us have made a wedding cake since.
Back to the gravy
As I was putting final seasoning touches on the gravy, Joe and I each had little our own little bowls into which I’d ladle small samples of the adjusted gravy at each new ingredient introduction. More salt? More pepper? More herbs? More Cognac? In the end, together we made a vat of damn good gravy. I poured it into a large screw-top container, which I wrapped in a pillow case and then lowered into a large Igloo drink dispenser, which kept the gravy nice and hot until dinner.
Sidebar: As a former (never again) caterer, I can confirm that nothing keeps hot stuff as hot as ice chests and insulated beverage containers. I once kept 100 baked potatoes piping hot for eight hours inside my trusty vintage metal ice chest.
Our Wednesday-evening mother-son gravy-tasting session was the final stretch of an involved process that began for me about a week before Thanksgiving with a frozen turkey that took four days to thaw in the refrigerator. Once thawed, on Day 1 I brined the turkey overnight so it would be extra juicy (it was). On Day 2 I dried off the brined bird and let it rest uncovered on a rack in the refrigerator to air dry, to ensure crispy skin (it was). Finally, on Day 3 I prepared the turkey for roasting, which also required a few steps.
I stuffed the bird with herbs from my yard. Side note: One good thing about living in Shasta County is that our climate is perfect for growing many hearty, drought-tolerant herbs. Sage, rosemary, a variety of thymes, and mints, as well as chives, bay laurel, marjoram and oregano practically thrive on neglect. They can survive blistering summers and frigid winters, yet still reappear year after year in the spring. Other herbs, like basil, parsley and tarragon usually require new annual plantings. On a related note, for the life of me I cannot grow dill or fennel.
Returning to the turkey, rough-cut celery, carrots and hunks of onion joined the herbs inside the turkey.
I reserved some finely chopped veggies for the bottom of the roasting pan.
I drizzled the chopped vegetables with olive oil and tossed in some bay leaves (no brag, but from my bay laurel tree). I poured water over everything to prevent burning, and to guarantee a flavorful liquid when combined with the roasted turkey drippings. I smeared butter all over the turkey, including some under the skin. Then I trussed the turkey with cooking twine to keep the contents snug inside the bird.
This year, for the first time, I tried Julia Child’s method of draping the turkey in sopping wet cheesecloth that’s been soaked in white wine and melted butter.
Doni’s brined turkey, done ala Julia Child’s recipe, draped with cheesecloth soaked in white wine and melted butter. The light colored blobs beneath the cheesecloth are bits of butter.
Doni meets Julia
Speaking of Julia Child, this is a good time to namedrop mention that many years ago I was granted a telephone interview with Julia Child for an Oct. 29, 2003, Redding Record Searchlight story. The interview eventually led to an actual meeting Child in her Montecito apartment.
The story of the lost stories
However, first, unfortunately, there were major issues, starting with the phone interview. Back when redding.com was in its infancy, the plan was that my Julia Child phone interview would be recorded and uploaded along with my published story to the paper’s website. The good news was I was allowed to use the managing editor’s office and his phone that had been hooked up to a recording device. The bad news was that after the interview, when we played back the audio, only my voice came through. Julia Child’s voice wasn’t there.
If I’m ever in a situation where I am asked for an example of how I handled a catastrophe with grace, I’ll recount that story of the botched Julia Child audio. Of course, possibly it wasn’t grace, but shock. Either way, I didn’t freak. I didn’t cry. I just went straight to my computer and started writing before the last wisps of the interview evaporated from my brain.
The good news is I’d taken copious notes, which is why, even after 30 years as a journalist, I never fully trust voice and video recorders.
More good news was that the story was published. The bad news was that after the Record Searchlight decision-makers fired me, they scrubbed the RS archives of everything I’d produced in my 10 years at the paper, so my Julia Child story exists only in this 21-year-old clipping.
I’ve never heard of a newspaper deleting stories written by a fired journalist, unless there was plagiarism involved, which absolutely was not the case. So, so bizarre.
All the cooking videos I’d done for redding.com are also gone. I can live with that. But I’m extremely bothered by all the wonderful, personal, meaningful stories shared with me by trusting people, stories that are long gone, as if they never existed.
Some of my favorite lost stories include one about a brilliant young man born without skin, who achieved so much despite severe disabilities. I will never forget Half Black the duck in the mechanic’s Pine Street shop that also contained the mechanic’s 17-foot long python (the man, the shop, the duck and snake are all gone). And stories I wrote about my Marine Corps son, whose First Marine Division was the tip of the spear going into Iraq, and the time when he was being deployed from San Diego, and he managed to see me from the top of a ship, and I was able to see him in a sea of thousands of seemingly identical Marines, and we were able to say goodbye. And going to the top of a rock quarry (I’m afraid of heights) to see the Christmas tree that truck drivers used as a landmark. And Snoopy Rock. And the Freeway Christmas Tree. And reporting from a mosh pit. And the love story between a truck driver and a toll booth operator. And, one of my all-time favorites, about “Rob the Dump Guy,” a recycling genius who transformed the French Gulch landfill into a place built from trash, including a gift shop where Bibles were free.
Of course, over time the deleted stories’ details will fade away. Some have been completely forgotten, like the favorite column of a woman I met during a Facebook Marketplace purchase, apparently about hummingbirds, and a reference to a flying pig. No memory of that whatsoever. More than 1,000 of my stories were erased from the paper’s historical archives; who knows, maybe more like 2,000. I would give a more accurate accounting, except there’s nothing left to count.
See for yourself. Google Doni Greenberg and Record Searchlight. Although you won’t find any of my newspaper stories, you may find a Chico News and Review story about my “departure” (the editor’s euphemism for fired) from the paper. Reading that CN&R story brings up so many uncomfortable feelings, many of which have little to do with my job loss.
The current good news is that truly, I’ve moved far beyond those painful days, and am so happy to be exactly where I am, here with you.
A trip to Julia Child’s home
There was more to what happened after the RS published my Julia Child story. It so happened that my then-husband was making a furniture delivery near Santa Barbara, near Child’s beautifully landscaped exclusive Montecito complex. Many famous people live in Montecito, including Oprah Winfrey, Gwyneth Paltrow, Jennifer Aniston, Prince Harry and Meghan Markle, for example.
I contacted Child’s assistant, who said she was delighted to make arrangements for me to meet Julia Child, my culinary heroine, at Child’s home. I could not believe my luck.
My then-husband, a talented woodworker — I’ll give him that — was so excited to meet Child that he made her a gorgeous wood writing desk/bed tray, since the assistant had shared that Child was writing another cookbook, much of it done from her bed.
Oh, the wild fantasies I entertained of my meeting with Julia Child! I’d brought two cookbooks for her to autograph … but of course, only if she didn’t mind! I wondered whether she’d be cooking when we arrived, and perhaps she’d ask me to help! Heaven. Pure heaven.
More good news: We had a date, time and address. The very bad news was that on the day of our appointment Child had suddenly fallen ill, and, unbeknownst to us, her anxious assistant was standing sentry at the property’s entrance to inform us that the meeting was cancelled. But unbeknownst to the assistant we arrived via a different entrance, which led us straight to the apartment with “J. Child” written on a brass plaque upon the door. We knocked, and were greeted by a woman in a bright white uniform whose English was as good as my Spanish. We managed to communicate that Julia Child was expecting us. The woman in white let us in and ushered us straight into Julia Child’s bedroom, where we were horrified to see the grand, 91-year-old, 6’2′ famous chef lying in an extra-long twin bed, being treated by a somber nurse who was administering oxygen. Child was awake, petting a small black-and-white kitten — Minou — that lounged upon Child’s chest.
A weakened Child looked up and asked if I was there to interview her. I said gosh no, that we’d already spoken on the phone for a newspaper story. I explained we were there to meet her and deliver her bed desk, but we’d be leaving immediately, since obviously this wasn’t a good time for a visit. Just about then, Child’s assistant burst into the room and ordered us out, perturbed that she hadn’t stopped us at the entrance.
Of course, no conversations were held, no cookbooks were signed, and no meals were made. I felt worried about Child, and embarrassed for her that we’d seen her in such a physically diminished state.
I was convinced that Child was on the verge of death. Not so. Many weeks later a postcard arrived, dated Dec. 3, 2003, signed by Julia Child herself. (Fun fact: Her signature looks like “Fred”.)
I felt so touched. I cried when I received it, and kept it on my refrigerator for many years, until I finally framed it, where it is displayed in my office.
Julia Child lived another eight months, until Aug. 13, 2004, just two days shy of her 92nd birthday.
Where were we? Oh yes, Child’s method of roasting a turkey draped in cheesecloth soaked in butter and wine. So with thoughts of Julie Child, that’s what I did Thursday with my turkey. I removed the cheesecloth when the turkey hit about 150 degrees, brushed it with more of the melted butter/wine mixture, and continued roasting it until the temperature reached a wonderfully moist and golden 165 degrees.
Doni’s fully roasted turkey, made especially for gravy. Note the rich coloring of the drippings and juices below the bird.
What to do with leftover turkey and gravy
Doni says this photo does not do the gravy justice, because it looked much better in person.
I removed the turkey from the pan and set it aside until it was cool enough to carve, package up and refrigerate. I saved the pan’s drippings to make the gravy.
I put the meatless turkey carcass in a crockpot filled with water where it bubbled away overnight. The next morning I strained all the solids from the broth, and then moved the turkey broth to the stovetop to simmer until it was reduced to the desired color and best flavor intensity for my gravy’s foundation.
This story is about what to do with the leftover turkey and gravy, which is why I won’t dive into the rest of the gravy-making details. Making gravy is simple, but if you’re unsure, simply Google “best turkey gravy recipe” and in no time you’ll be a turkey-gravy expert.
For me, the entire point of making that turkey was as a vehicle to achieve outstanding gravy. A bonus was that I now had an entire cooked turkey to enjoy over the next few days for sandwiches and one particular targeted dish: Turkey and Dumplings. The reason I was hell bent on making Turkey and Dumplings last week is because Joe was home visiting, and I wanted to make enough Turkey and Dumplings for him to take with him back to Berkeley. Mission accomplished.
It’s been many years since I shared my chicken and dumpling recipe here on ANC, back when Joe lived in the Czech Republic and requested the recipe.
My original recipe is from the Farm Journal’s Best-Ever Recipes, circa 1977. It was a gift from my mother-in-law. If you ever see this cookbook at a thrift store, buy it. Cherish it.
Please don’t judge me by the sloppy condition of these two pages. Obviously, I consulted this recipe many, many times over the decades, long before someone invented a cookbook splatter screen.
The Farm Journal’s recipe called for parsley in the dumplings, which my kids never liked, so I omitted it.
The beauty of using leftover turkey gravy as a base for turkey and dumplings is that the recipe’s most time-consuming part – making the broth/gravy – isn’t necessary since you’re working with leftover gravy.
Even so, I made some slight modifications to transform the thick Thanksgiving gravy into more of a soup base for the turkey and dumplings. I heated up the gravy, then slowly stirred in some chicken broth, until the consistency was more soup than gravy. The amount is your call.
Follow the recipe’s instructions below about making and cooking the dumplings, which are cooked on top of the hot gravy. And there you have it: Turkey & Dumplings made from leftover holiday turkey and leftover gravy. Enjoy!
Quick Chicken & Dumplings
About 2 lbs. chicken (or turkey) torn or cut into bite-sized pieces
1 quart chicken broth (or make your own broth)
1 cup milk
1/3 cup flour
In a large pot bring the broth to a rolling boil.
In a large jar combine the milk and flour. Cover tightly with a lid and shake vigorously – until it’s smooth and creamy.
Slowly stir the milky liquid into the hot broth over medium heat. Stir constantly so it doesn’t stick. The broth should thicken. Adjust seasonings to your taste.
Add the chicken (or turkey) pieces. At this point you may either keep the mixture hot and proceed to topping with dumplings, or refrigerate it for later.
Next, make the dumplings.
Dumplings
2 cups sifted all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 cup cold shortening or butter
1 cup milk
Sift together the flour, baking powder and salt into a large bowl.
Cut the shortening into the dry ingredients using a pastry blender (or, better yet, your fingertips) until it resembles course cornmeal.
Slowly add the milk to the dry mixture and then use a wooden spoon to stir it into a soft dough, just enough to incorporate everything. It’s very wet and sticky. At this point you may proceed to the next step and plop the dumpling dough on the hot soup mixture, or you may refrigerate the dumpling dough and marry the wet dough and the hot broth later.
When you’re ready to introduce the dumpling dough to the hot chicken (or turkey) soup mixture in your biggest wide-mouth pot, use a spoon to plop the wet dough onto the chicken mixture.
Simmer (med-low heat) uncovered for about 10 minutes. Now put a lid on the pot and simmer for about another 10 minutes.
Serve immediately. May garnish with fresh chopped parsley.
Makes about 8 servings.
(Note: Your goal is fluffy, fully cooked dumplings, not gummy, doughy ones. Be aware that because of the baking powder, the dumplings will expand as they simmer in the hot mixture. Plus, the bigger a dumpling, the more cooking time is required. For this reason, I prefer dotting the liquid with many smaller dumplings rather than just a few big ones.)
One food story down …
There. That wasn’t so difficult. Actually, it was fun to write about something positive that everyone can relate to: food. I will work on publishing more cooking stories throughout December.
Speaking of December, it has just two Shasta County Board of Supervisors meetings; 9 a.m. on Dec. 10, and 5:30 p.m. on Dec. 19.
Let’s not think about that right now.
Instead, I’m thinking that I’d love to publish some of your favorite holiday recipes, and descriptions about why you love them. Feel free to email them to me at donig.anewscafe@gmail.com.
In the meantime, as we await Shasta County’s final elections results, I wish for us all a magical season of peace, harmony and great recipes. Here’s to making delicious food, and showing the love through shared meals, despite political incompatibilities.
And no matter what, if things get crazier here in Shasta County, just keep cooking.
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