The other day on my blog, I was writing about all of the meals using leftover turkey that follow the main event. Turkey chopped salads. Turkey ala King. Turkey club sandwiches. Turkey tacos. But in the blog post, I specifically mentioned “the inevitable turkey tetrazzini.”
Never being one to be shy, my sister Jen asked me outright on Thanksgiving Day if I really made turkey tetrazzini as one of my Thanksgiving turkey leftovers, or if I was once again using “literary license.” She used air quotes and said it with a bit of a snicker. Literary license, by the way, is my excuse for not always being entirely factual if being a tad, well, not factual is more interesting. Wikipedia calls it artistic license and defines it as distortion of fact…..by an artist in the name of art. So see? It’s a real thing. It only requires a bit of a stretch of the imagination by calling what I produce “art.”
By the way, saying that my sister snickered was also literary license.
But back to turkey tetrazzini.
I admitted to my sister that I had, in fact, never made turkey tetrazzini using my turkey leftovers. I have made turkey noodle soup. Turkey pot pies are a common post-Thanksgiving meal that I make. Bill loves when I simply throw the leftover turkey into the leftover gravy, and serve it over a slice of white bread with a side of leftover mashed potatoes.
But no turkey tetrazzini. I mentioned “inevitable turkey tetrazzini” because I always saw it as the leftover turkey meal of choice in Redbook and Good Housekeeping. I think it’s been around for decades. My mom might have even prepared it with leftover turkey. It just has a 1960s feel to it, doesn’t it?
Hold that turkey tetrazzini thought, because I want to digress to something only marginally related. The matter of the turkey carcass.
Somewhere near the end of our Thanksgiving meal, a discussion ensued about what was going to happen to the turkey carcass. Or, in our case, the turkey carcasses. There was a point when I thought we might be moving to the living room to perform feats of strength with the carcasses being the grand prize. Thankfully, Allen and I took the high road and backed away, leaving the carcasses to Court and Alyx’s mom Manith. I suspect that two superb pots of soup have recently been made from those bird skeletons.
But back, once again, to turkey tetrazzini.
A day or so following Thanksgiving, I finally had time to begin perusing my Food Network Magazine that featured their Thanksgiving ideas. Lo, and behold, what should appear but a recipe for turkey tetrazzini. Yes indeed, in something as fancy schmancy as Food Network Magazine.
I took a gander and liked what I saw. This was not your mother’s turkey casserole featuring cream of mushroom soup and cheddar cheese and baked at 350 until the turkey is so dry it gets stuck in your throat. In fact, it didn’t go into the oven at all. And in place of cream of mushroom soup, the recipe called for — wait for it – a cup-and-a-half of heavy cream. As I perused the recipe, I noticed that I had every single item in my pantry and/or my refrigerator.
I will never again poke fun at turkey tetrazzini, because Bill and I almost licked the pan clean. How do you go wrong with something that includes cream, parmesan cheese, mushrooms, and wine?
Turkey Tetrazzini with Spinach and Mushrooms
Salt for cooking noodles
8 oz. wide egg noodles
3 T. unsalted butter
Salt and freshly ground pepper
½ small onion, diced
2 stalks celery, sliced
8 oz. cremini mushrooms, stemmed and sliced
1 t. chopped fresh thyme
¼ c. dry white wine
1-1/2 c. heavy cream
3 c. chopped leftover turkey or chicken
8 c. baby spinach
½ c. grated parmesan cheese
Cook the noodles in the salted water as the label directs. Reserve ½ c. cooking water, then drain. Toss with 1 T. butter and season with salt and pepper.
Meanwhile, heat the remaining 2 T. butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, until slightly softened, about 3 min. Add the mushrooms, thyme, ½ t. salt and a few grinds of pepper; cook, stirring occasionally, until the mushrooms are soft and lightly golden, 6-7 min. Add the wine and cook until absorbed, about 1 minute. Add the heavy cream and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to medium low and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the sauce is slightly thickened, 4-5 min.
Stir the turkey and spinach into the sauce and cook until the turkey is warmed through and the spinach is wilted, about 3 min. Stir in the reserved cooking water and return to a simmer. Remove from the heat, and stir in 1/3 C. parmesan cheese.
Add the noodles to the turkey mixture. Sprinkle with the remaining parmesan.