Spatchcock Turkey Fail and Recipe: Amazing Gravy

First of all, I just want to state unequivocally that I derive profound enjoyment from the word spatchcock.

Spatchcock spatchcock spatchcock.

Second, I would like to report that I have discovered why the methods for spatchcocking a turkey on the interweb talk about a 10-12 pound bird.

My office gives out turkeys every Thanksgiving.  And they are just massive.  The one this year dressed out at 22 pounds.  Spatchcocking a 22-pound specimen is not at all the same as spatchcocking a 10-12 pound one.

The backbone yielded only to a meat cleaver - my heavy kitchen shears could not manage the job.  I did not sever any digits so figured it was going pretty well.

The first realization that this might not be a good idea came when I opened the bird up, and the realization dawned that there is not a roasting pan in the midcoast large enough to accommodate a butterflied 22-pound turkey.  (I never said I was smaht.)

But when it was time to flip it over and break the breastbone, that's when I had to give up.  I'm not a huge person, but even with my full weight applied - you will just have to picture me with both hands balanced on a slippery poultry carcass, elbows locked, feet dangling off the kitchen floor - that breastbone would not crack.

Out came the meat cleaver again.  A turkey is technically not spatchcocked if it's hacked into two pieces, is it?  Can I still say "spatchcock"?

In case you are thinking it's a little weird to recreate Thanksgiving dinner on a random December weekend -  you are thinking it - this is the lead-up to Christmas dinner, see.  We can never decide what to have, so this year I am making all of our favorites the week prior to Christmas.

Yesterday it was turkey with all the gooey self-indulgent trimmings - dressing, green bean casserole, yams with marshmallows, mashed potatoes, and Amazing Gravy (method below).

Later this week it will be ham, potatoes au gratin, and peas with pearl onions.  Christmas Eve we'll have our traditional lobster stew, and Christmas dinner itself will feature a rib roast with horseradish and red wine pan sauces, Yorkshire pudding, creamed onions, oven-roasted potatoes and Brussels sprouts.  Desserts will run the gamut from gingerbread with caramel sauce and whipped cream, to steamed date pudding with whiskey sauce, to cranberry spice cake, to I haven't quite decided between pumpkin cheesecake with bourbon sour cream topping or pecan pie.

The finished product (quarter is included for scale)

So back to my mangled turkey.  It fit rather snugly in my largest roasting pan and stewed in its own copious (about eight cups) juices, which kept the meat deliciously moist and provided the foundation for an amazing gravy.

This method produces an incredibly flavorful gravy, and it's the ultimate in Yankee frugality because one is utilizing things that might otherwise be thrown away.

Amazing Gravy

While your turkey (or chicken) is roasting, toss the wing tips, neck, backbone, giblets and other trimmings into a stock pot, add water to cover, and simmer, covered.

When the bird is done, pour off the pan juices.  Allow the fat to come to the surface, then skim the fat and do not discard - put it in a large skillet or saucepan and turn the flame to medium.

Whisk in an amount of flour roughly equivalent to the volume of fat.  Stir until it becomes thick and bubbly.

Gradually whisk in the de-fatted pan juices and additional stock from the simmering stock pot, if necessary; reduce heat and simmer until heated through and of the desired consistency.

Season with a bit of salt and pepper and serve.