A Do-What-I-Say Christmas: the greenery

Fo-Show Green Beans

In the holiday spirit of let’s make the best of it, I strive to identify redeeming characteristics in those I would otherwise write off as “unfortunate.” It’s with that spirit that I execute my annual attempt to make amends with the legume. In fairness, green beans are so visually pleasing on a plate that their lack of flavor (save for a hint of rubbery bitterness) is almost excusable. On the other hand, Yorkshire pudding manages to both look and taste fabulous, and that’s after going to considerably more trouble, so the haricots verts can play their tiny violins in someone else’s kitchen. Moving along, here’s how I make something out of not much of anything.

1 lb green beans, rinsed, tips snapped
2 tbsp butter
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 C slivered almonds
1/4 tsp pepper

Set your oven to 350. Spread out the almonds on a cookie sheet and toast them for 5 minutes. Fill a medium or large saucepan with 2 inches of water and add the beans. Bring it to a boil over medium-high and cook for 7 minutes to preserve the snap. In the meantime, heat the butter in a small pan over medium heat. After it stops foaming, add the garlic and almonds, and cook for 1 minute, then remove from the burner. When the beans are done, drain them and return them to the pot. Add the garlic/almond/butter  and the pepper and combine well. Hopefully, you’ve pulled the rest of the meal together; there’s nothing so specifically reprehensible as cold cooked vegetables.

A Do-What-I-Say Christmas: getting comfortable with geese

What a Lot of Effort Goose and Gravy

As Mr. Smith frequently reminds us, one should never try out a new recipe on guests. Even if it comes from a trusted source, you simply cannot be completely confident until you’ve successfully executed it at least once, and that confidence makes the difference between fair and spectacular. You don’t need to hold a dress rehearsal for the entire Christmas feast, but you should make each item on the menu over the course of the next month, noting any differences in cooking time (especially if you have an electric stove).

1 small, frozen goose
1/2 recipe pork stuffing
1 large can chicken stock
3 tbsp flour
salt and pepper

For your test goose, get a small, frozen bird, and let it defrost overnight in the fridge, taking it out early the next morning to finish the melt at room temperature. Once thawed, bring a large pot of water to a boil. Remove the neck and organ bag from the goose, and toss. Remove any fat “pods” from the cavities (they pull right off), and discard. Pull back the skin from the neck cavity and locate the wishbone. Cut around it until you can remove it easily, and get rid of it. Cut the tips off the wings.

Wash the goose with cold water, inside and out, and pat it dry with paper towels. Prick the skin all over with a sharp knife, but don’t pierce the meat. Stick the goose into the boiling water, neck down, and cook for 1 minute. Flip it over and cook for another minute (half the bird will be sticking out of the pot the whole time). Remove it from the water, drain, and pat it dry with paper towels, inside and out. Put it on a cookie sheet and refrigerate it uncovered overnight, letting the skin dry out. Start Phase I of the pork stuffing, but halve the recipe for now.

Set your oven to 325. Finish making the pork stuffing, and pack up the goose. Set it on a wire rack over a roasting pan, insert a meat thermometer into one of the breasts (don’t let it touch the bone), and roast until the internal temperature reaches 170, basting with the drippings every 30 minutes. Depending on size, it will take anywhere from 2 to 3 hours. Let the goose stand outside of the oven for at least 15 minutes, about the time it will take you to make the gravy if you focus. Any extra stuffing should be put in the oven for the last half hour on the goose clock, then combined with the bird-in stuffing before serving.

Pour the drippings from the pan into a large glass measuring cup and let the liquid stand for two minutes. Use a bulb baster to separate the fat on top from the drippings on the bottom. Add enough water or chicken stock to the drippings to make 2 C of liquid. Heat 3 tbsp of the fat in the pan over a burner set to medium-high, and whisk in 3 tbsp flour. Let the roux cook for 1 minute, then slowly pour in the stock while whisking vigorously. Once the gravy is smooth and even, season with salt and pepper and transfer to a boat.

If you’ve done exactly as directed, you should be ready to sit down to a delicious preview of the main event. Otherwise, make it again, and try to do what I say this time.

A Do-What-I-Say Christmas: Introduction

Now that all of your silver has been washed, polished and packed up after another successful Thanksgiving meal, it’s time to plan your Christmas feast. This year I’ll be roasting a goose; my perfect turkey record is beginning to make me smug, so I’m looking for a brand new challenge. The preliminary list of sides includes pork stuffing, Yorkshire pudding, Waldorf salad, twice-baked mini potatoes with truffle oil, and green beans with garlic butter and almonds, all of which will be preceded by a hot hors d’oeuvre of Swiss chard and gruyère mini-quiches. The pie will be apple, but instead of the lone Gala or Braeburn, I’ll throw in a single, finely chopped pear, balanced with a little extra salt and spice.

If you find the above menu as brilliant as I do, I’ll be posting the steps you’ll want to take over the course of the next month, under the heading “a do-what-I-say Christmas.” A month is the perfect amount of time to design and execute a holiday dinner, whether you’re planning for your entire extended family or just you and your special friend. Go ahead and infer whatever you want from “special.”

In fact, the first task is already at hand; it’s time to order the goose, as you’ll of course want to use fresh, not frozen. I always pre-order meat in person, and I dress for the occasion, just as I would for air travel, a dentist appointment, or a bank heist: a-line skirt, sweater set, pearls, tights. When it comes to securing the best from your butcher, it’s all about teeth and tits.

A 12-pound goose feeds four to six average diners, and that’s the biggest you want to go. You may be tempted to overestimate the amount of meat on your bird once she arrives – don’t. She’s just big-boned. Size corresponds to age with geese, and they don’t wear their years well, so if you plan to host more than six, make a turkey or figure out how to cook two geese in one oven. If you have a double-oven, congratulations. You’ve made it.

For anyone who’s in, check back at least weekly to stay abreast of new assignments (or follow on the Twitter @maryspena, thanks to Mr. P) and rest assured that if you do what I say, your Christmas dinner will raise your culinary acclaim to a whole nubba lebba.