017: 2022, Wrapped

An attempt to properly bid farewell to the biggest year of my life. Plus a recipe for turkey soup and stock.

Broadway, Newburgh, NY, overlooking the Hudson River

As I sit here, typing this on my phone with only my right thumb, my 9-month-old fast asleep in the crook of my left arm, I struggle to put words to the end of the year. All week I wasn’t sure I would get my act together to send one more HCD letter off in 2022. Though I found myself wanting to, I felt angsty subject-wise. I’ve been enjoying many an EOY recap from my favorite newsletters and thought: why not write my own, even if it has to be a bit tossed off? A short list of accomplishments? Milestones? It doesn’t need to be over-thought. And then I remembered: I birthed a human this year. Suddenly something tossed off for my home cooking-specific newsletter made absolutely no sense. I can’t ignore the gargantuan milestone snoozing in my arms, crawling (more and more rapidly) around our home, attracted by all of the things he absolutely should not be attracted to, like the dog bowl or the electrical socket (is this the true human condition?), instead of the toys perfectly optimized to the stage of development he’s in, scattered all over the house.

So what to do then? Add it to the list of things I planned to do this year but didn’t (thank you notes🫣, birth announcement, family holiday card, baby book, etc.). Allow myself to be paralyzed by the intimidating prospect of wrapping up the year without being flippant but also without being corny or obnoxious. Man, it feels tough. But this is my attempt.

I’ll begin by stating (repeating?) the obvious: A lot has happened. I began the year 6 months pregnant and ended it 9 months postpartum. I have a bunch of weird and unexpected postpartum ailments (the things people don’t tell you about!) and I’m still 30 pounds over my prenatal weight, which is both fine and deeply not fine. [Don’t do that thing where you shrug off and judge someone else’s body issues, please. There are so many ways in which having a child signals loss of your previous self, and that’s the real issue, not vanity—though vanity is a huge part of it too and that’s ok.] We moved into our home—gut-renovated single-handedly by my husband in his free time—two weeks before our son was born. It was so hard and felt impossible, but we (he) did it. It still feels surreal to me that we’re here. I’ve embraced sweats and made them stylish (with the help of a far-too-expensive winter coat). I’ve started wearing earrings again. My best necklace now has teeth-marks on it. I did the bravest thing I’ve ever done: I quit my job to stay home with my baby. I have no regrets, but there is that loss of self thing I already mentioned, and yes I miss my paycheck which we are still adjusting to not having; yes I miss my excellent benefits and health insurance; and yes I miss my existance in the capitalist system we find ourselves trapped in. It’s disturbing to know that I’m not really considered a person unless I have an income and pay taxes, and Reed would have to cosign anything financial that I try to do [oops, a tangent about money, gross!]. I miss a lot of other less-practical but more human (and corny) things too (my colleagues and authors—I miss you all). Mostly though, I feel so lucky and am very privileged to “stay home” with my son and care for him full-time.

And perhaps the lightest development, but also one of those most fun, of them all: I started this newsletter, and I’m still writing it. I’m still cooking. How about that?

My turkey (already carved) on Christmas. I thought it was perfect.

As of the writing of this, the last (most recent) gastronomic thing I did this year was roast a 15-lb turkey on a sheet pan, dry-brined in brown sugar and kosher salt and fresh ground black pepper, and served with some delicious sides. It was the prettiest turkey I’ve ever seen, but we forgot to take a photo. My mom and I cooked together, while Reed watched the baby. It was not without its angst, but it got done. We argued, we ate a bit too late and passed out a bit too early while watching a movie that should not be fallen asleep to (The Lady Eve), but I think that’s a fitting first Christmas dinner with an infant in tow.

Our mighty turkey, yielding stock on the stove (sorry the neck is a bit graphic I realize!). It was too big for one stock pot. Turkey stock and soup recipe below.

On Boxing Day, I put the giant turkey carcass to good use by simmering it for three hours in two separate stock pots, into a lovely stock. And as of now I have made two different versions of turkey soup, inspired by my mom’s tradition. One with russet potato and thyme and paprika, and one with rosemary and leek and farro. And it has at least two more meals in it, so I plan to make a version with—you guessed it—beans! And also a version that will bake with leftover Christmas Lima Beans (that I prepared on Christmas Eve) in the oven with lots of breadcrumbs and Parmesan cheese dusted on top (inspired by Alison Roman’s most recent newsletter).

Turkey soup with russet potatoes, celery, paprika, and thyme (recipe below)

I cannot believe the baby is still asleep as I arrive at this paragraph. I guess “tossing things off” is possible even when you have a baby. What are the other scary things I could do?? Maybe next year we’ll work up the courage to take him overseas. To Rome and to Sicily (the 2020 trip we were forced to cancel)? A girl can dream!

As ever, thank you for being here with me, and for reading.

Love,

AV

P.S. emboldened as I am now, I might pull together some EOY recommendations, and hopes for 2023. Watch this space. 👀

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Turkey Soup, inspired by my mom Kathleen

Ingredients for Stock:

• Turkey carcass, leftover from a previous meal (like Thanksgiving or Christmas), all meat removed from the bones

• 1 large onion, red or yellow, sliced through the stem and quartered

• 1 head of garlic, sliced crosswise

• 2 celery stalks, roughly chopped

• 1 large carrot, routhly chopped

• parsley sprigs and other scraps

• bay leaves

• black peppercorns

• kosher salt

Ingredients for Soup:

• 1 large onion or leek, finely chopped

• 3-5 garlic cloves, thinly sliced

• 2 celery stalks, sliced thinly on the bias

• 2 cups shredded pre-cooked turkey

• 1 large russet potato chopped OR 1 c farro

• extra virgin olive oil

• kosher salt

• herbs (thyme or rosemary)

• spices (paprika perhaps)

Make the stock:

1. Put the turkey carcass and the neck in your largest pot, and add roughly chopped vegetable scraps (celery, carrots, parsley, etc), the garlic, and the quartered onion, the peppercorns and bay leaves.

2. Add as much water as you can to the pot and bring to a boil. Lower the heat and simmer for 3-4 hours. Regularly skim any scum that rises to the top for the first hour or so. Add water as needed if you feel it’s reducing too much (it shouldn’t if you’re keeping it at a light simmer).

3. Allow to cool completely before straining into containers and storing.

Make the soup:

1. Once the stock is done, but before cooled and stored, heat 2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil in a Dutch oven over medium heat and add the onion or leeks and sliced garlic. Season with salt and pepper and saute, stirring frequently, until softened and aromatic. If using spices like paprika add at this time.

2. Add 3/4 cup hot stock stock and cook a bit longer until translucent and reduced.

3. Strain as much stock as you want for the soup directly from your stock pot into the Dutch oven and bring to a simmer. Taste, and season with salt and freshly ground black pepper as needed. Add any herbs (thyme leaves or a sprig of rosemary) at this time if using.

4. Add the potato or farro and continue simmering until cooked.

5. Add the shredded turkey and celery and simmer 4-5 minutes.

6. Ladle into bowls and top with freshly ground black pepper, maybe a dash of vinegar or lemon juice, and alongside toasted bread of your choice.