Butterfly, dry brine are methods for moist, memorable turkey
This year, if you're going to buy what I call a “sale-turkey” (you know, the ones that range from $0.49 to $0.99 a pound) that's already been pumped-up with some salty liquid loosely defined as “brine,” and includes a pop-up timer; this column is not for you.
If you've never roasted a whole turkey before or you had and done an at-home wet brine to do your best to end up with moist and flavorful results; have I got good news for you. Here's my story.
For years I've tried to find fresh (never-been-frozen) turkeys, raised without the use of antibiotics and fed what would be standard turkey feed that did not contain any GMO's. The turkeys I found and roasted during those years delivered robust turkey flavor, but without a brine did not produce moist and tender roast turkey meat.
Last year my turkey game changed — big time.
I wrote that, after mortgaging the ranch, we bought a 13-pound uniquely special, limited-availability, truly free-range, authentic black-feathered heirloom turkey from Joyce Farms in North Carolina for $99. Shipping added another $25.
The turkey I served last year, and a “sale-turkey” could not be less alike. When it came to roasting my heirloom turkey I wanted to taste the turkey and not a flavored brine.
I turned to the very knowledgeable (I've never prepared anything from them that failed) folks at seriouseats.com for a preparation idea, and they presented me with two doozies: spatchcock (butterflying) my expensive turkey and using a simple, two-ingredient dry brine.
About dry-brining, J. Kenji López-Alt, Serious Eats' Chief Culinary Consultant writes: “ ... dry-brining your bird can mean the difference between dry turkey and supremely moist and plump turkey.” Why?
A dry brine makes it possible for a turkey to retain its natural moisture. A wet-brine, although a dandy method, because moisture (water) is added to the turkey, can dilute turkey's natural flavor.
Following López-Alt's directions, I removed my turkey's back and set it aside for turkey soup. Next, I opened the turkey up and pressed it as flat as I could.
Kosher salt and baking soda make up the two-ingredient dry brine. You may have just said: “What? Baking powder? Really?” You're as skeptical as I was too when I read that.
Setting my skepticism aside, I went ahead and coated the exterior of my flattened turkey with the dry brine. I placed the bird on a wire rack and then sat the rack inside a half-sheet pan and, uncovered, into my refrigerator for 24 hours.
When my turkey exited the refrigerator on Thanksgiving Day, the skin looked somewhat shriveled and dry. If I had dry-brine doubts; they now doubled.
My spatchcocked bird cooked faster than at any other time I've roasted a whole turkey; 80 minutes in a 450-degree oven and the breast was 150 degrees and the thigh 165. Amazing.
No Norman Rockwell moment here, though. After letting my turkey rest for 15 minutes as I made gravy, I sliced it all into serving pieces and left the legs to chomp on for those who love them and laid it all out on a warm platter.
This turkey, after all that, was nothing short of incredible. The flavor was worth the price I paid (I'm getting another one this year). The meat from the breast was moist, and the dark meat cooked just right. With the small number of leftovers, I made terrific sandwiches the next day. And, turkey soup after that.
If you try dry brining and spatchcock methods this year, please let me know how it turned out.
• Don Mauer welcomes questions, comments and recipe makeover requests. Write to him at don@ theleanwizard.com.