No Matter How You Make It, Stuffing’s A Must

Come November, my house smells like Thanksgiving every day.

On the first of the month, I start endless experimentations with stuffing recipes. I try every one I run across and fool around with old favorites. Even if the end results elude perfection, I don’t mind. In the autumn chill, the tantalizing aroma of stuffing baking perfumes the house wonderfully. Who needs Chanel with the scent of chestnuts and sourdough wafting through the air?

I was recently thumbing through a 1912 edition of “A New Book of Cookery,” by Fannie Merritt Farmer, to review some old options. The pickings were slim and the ingredients few: cracker crumbs with boiling water and butter, and stale bread and cracker crumbs mixed with oysters, to name two. By the late ‘30s, recipes were looking rosier; “The Alice Bradley Menu Cookbook,” for example, calls for chestnuts and sausage to enliven the mix.

Today’s cooks might add such unusual ingredients as couscous or pumpernickel as a base, for example, and hickory nuts or chorizo for flavoring.

To me, stuffing is the raison d’etre of the Thanksgiving meal. It’s not that I don’t like candied yams, cranberry sauce or any of the other trimmings; I just like stuffing better. Better than anything, that is, except for turkey, because stuffing without the bird would be like cappuccino without milk.

Besides its great taste, I love stuffing’s forgiving nature. It’s easy to improvise on a basic recipe - or even make mistakes - and still achieve luscious results. But no matter how reckless the recipe, the key to success is including four basic elements: a base such as day-old bread or other grains; flavor from herbs, spices and fat; texture provided by vegetables, nuts and/or fruit; and binders like eggs, broth and/or milk.

Some folks prefer dry stuffings, others fancy fillings on the wet side. I like them in-between, moist but not mushy. For an ideal consistency, the unbaked mixture should just hold together when a small amount is pressed between two spoons.

Like any memorable dish, the quality of the ingredients is critical. Homemade bread tastes best, but when desperate for time I’ve been known to purchase a loaf from a top-notch bakery. Personally, I draw the line at canned broth; there’s no equal to made-from-scratch turkey stock for moistening stuffing. But, of course, store-bought low-sodium chicken broth or a frozen gourmet version beats none at all. Mature (but not old) vegetables contribute a deep, hearty flavor, while fresh herbs add needed high notes to the blend.

And I love the rich taste of nuts. When they’re lightly toasted, they boost the flavor of the finished dish. Technique matters, too. Ingredients should always be lightly tossed together; otherwise, we’re talking mush.

Each Thanksgiving, one of the greatest controversies is whether stuffing tastes better baked inside or outside the turkey. Health concerns aside, I am an ardent believer in cooking the mixture in the poultry cavity. Turkey’s natural juices coddle stuffing; they contribute flavor and moisture as the bird roasts.

But since I demand multiple stuffings at my Thanksgiving table, I cook alternatives in pans. To ensure terrific taste, spoon the mixture into a greased baking dish, dot it with unsalted butter and drizzle with additional broth to replace turkey juices. Cover with aluminum foil and bake at 350 degrees 30 to 40 minutes - just long enough to heat the ingredients through and force the flavors to marry.

Another ongoing argument concerns the name: stuffing or dressing? The words have become interchangeable, but common sense dictates it’s “stuffing” if baked in poultry and “dressing” when cooked on its own.

For safety purposes, poultry should never be stuffed until it’s ready for the oven, and stuffing should be removed before carving. Since I like to taste my mixture as I season it, I eschew raw eggs. They’re not essential anyway; eggs often make stuffing taste pasty.

The versatility of the following recipe appeals to me. If going gung-ho, use homemade bread (egg, white or Italian) and turkey stock and home-roasted chestnuts. But if premium quality stuffing mix, low-sodium canned chicken broth and roasted and peeled whole chestnuts in a jar are substituted, the results are still wonderful.

Sometimes I add about 1/3 cup finely chopped carrots to the vegetable saute, and 1/4 cup freshly squeezed orange juice and a splash of orange liqueur along with the other liquids. This variation is subtly sweeter and always wins applause.

Chestnut and Brandied Fruit Stuffing

1/2 cup chopped, mixed dried fruit

Brandy, to cover fruit

3 tablespoons unsalted butter

3/4 cup diced onions

1/2 cup diced celery

1 cup whole chestnuts, chopped

7 cups lightly toasted, crumbled stale bread

1 to 1-1/2 cups turkey stock

1/4 cup dry white wine

2 tablespoons chopped fresh tarragon

Chopped fresh sage

Salt, freshly ground black pepper

Place dried fruit in small bowl and cover with brandy. Set aside to marinate 1 hour.

Melt butter in large skillet over medium heat. Add onions and celery and saute several minutes, stirring frequently, until onions are soft and translucent in color. Stir in chestnuts and saute 2 minutes.

Place bread crumbs in large bowl and stir in vegetable mixture. Stir in enough turkey stock to moisten. Add wine. Mix in dried fruit including brandy. Stir in tarragon, sage, salt and pepper to taste.

Spoon stuffing into turkey’s large body and neck cavities, being careful not to pack stuffing in. Or place in a baking dish, dot with butter, drizzle with additional stock, cover and bake at 350 degrees about 35 minutes or until heated through.

Yield: About 10 cups.

Nutrition information per 1/2-cup serving, using 1/4 cup brandy as marinade: 215 calories, 3.6 grams fat (15 percent fat calories), 5.5 grams protein, 37 grams carbohydrate, 5.5 milligrams cholesterol.

Corn Bread Stuffing

Cooked outside the bird, this recipe from “Chef Paul Prudhomme’s Louisiana Kitchen” (Morrow, 1984) is always a winner. The peppery heat is tempered by the sweetness of the corn bread, and thanks to the eggs, butter and evaporated milk, the overall taste is gloriously rich.

2 teaspoons salt

1-1/2 teaspoons white pepper

1 teaspoon ground red pepper (preferably cayenne)

1 teaspoon black pepper

1 teaspoon dried oregano

1/2 teaspoon onion powder

1/2 teaspoon dried thyme

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter

1/4 cup margarine

3/4 cup finely chopped onions

3/4 cup finely chopped green bell peppers

1/2 cup finely chopped celery

1 tablespoon minced garlic

2 bay leaves

3/4 pound chicken giblets, boiled until tender, then ground (preferably) or finely chopped

1 cup chicken stock

1 tablespoon Tabasco sauce

5 cups finely crumbled corn bread

1 (13-ounce) can evaporated milk, or 1-2/3 cups

3 eggs

Thoroughly combine salt, peppers, oregano, onion powder and thyme in small bowl and set aside.

Melt butter and margarine in large skillet. Add onions, bell peppers, celery, garlic and bay leaves and saute over high heat about 2 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add seasoning mix and continue cooking until vegetables are barely wilted, about 5 minutes.

Stir in giblets, stock and Tabasco and cook 5 minutes, stirring frequently. Remove bay leaves. Turn off heat. Add corn bread, evaporated milk and eggs, stirring well.

Spoon dressing into greased 9- by 13-inch baking pan. Bake at 350 degrees until browned on top, 35 to 40 minutes.

Yield: About 8 cups.

Nutrition information per 1/2-cup serving: 385 calories, 19 grams fat (44 percent fat calories), 12 grams protein, 42 grams carbohydrate, 152 milligrams cholesterol, 820 milligrams sodium.

MEMO: Janice Wald Henderson is the West Coast Editor for Chocolatier Magazine.