Turkeys roasting over an open fire

Ok ok, I know, it's been too long, and for what this blog entry isabout...WAY TOO LONG... but what the hell,gotta get on with it at some point. No, this entry is devoted to my favorite food, and my favorite was of cooking it: Turkey roasted over an open fire.

Now for me, this whole tradition started during a project for the California Biennial of 2008 we did in our backyard with Bay Area artist Julio Cesar Morales and his collaborator Max La Riviere-Hedrick. For the project Julio and Max made a video about the last 8 hours of when California was still Mexico.. all of which took place over a dinner in Sonoma - so NorCal!

Anyway, we ended up roasting an 80lb steamship round of a Wagyu Beef to make Tacos....decadent and then some. Anyway, this got me interested in rustic forms of cooking, and as a result Max & the gang helped meput on a Thanksgiving dinner at our home for 30 members of the Bay Area art community. We all sat at one table, lit by candles, drank wine, and ate the most fabulous fire-roasted turkey the world has ever known!"ROASTED OVER AN OPEN FIRE!" you say, "But won't that make a dry bird even worse?!?!?!" The answer is no no no...there's magic in the whole technique and it comes in the form of brine!

Brine is a relatively easy task:

• 1 gallon water or vegetable broth
• 1 cup sea salt
• 2 tablespoon crushed dried rosemary
• 1 tablespoon dried sage
• 2 tablespoon dried thyme
• 3 tablespoon mustard seeds
• 
  

Bring everything to a boil, turn off the heat, and let it steep until it's cool... or cool enough it wouldn't harm a baby bathing in it... cause that's exactly what this Turkey is and what it's going to do. Next you'll place your turkey - cleaned of course - in a brine bag ( or clear and sterile heavy duty trash bag ) and pour your brine in. Squeeze as much air out of the bag as possible, tie it up and keep this bird-in-a-bag cool.... I do this by putting it in a cooler with some ice on the bottom and leave it outside. Be sure you secure the top or the neighborhood cats are going to have a way better Thanksgiving than you will. The math is 1lb = 1 hour of soaking time... more time if you want your turkey a little saltier.

The next day you'll have to prepare your bird. Since th

is is an outdoor adventure, I use the garden hose to clean off the surface of the bird. Now for the magic: Trussing! This is a bit of a trick, but there are plenty of books and online tutorials that will show you how to do this. There are 3 secrets to this when doing this for open fire cooking:

1) Use natural rope. Natural rope is naturally flame resistant, and it won't release any nasty chemicals on your bird like nylon would.... I haven't tried nylon, and I pity the gut of the person who has.

2) Make sure you have an area both at the neck and at the rump where you'll be able to hook into the hanging chain. You're going to need to flip this bird half way through.

3) Make that Bird chill! No seriously, bend that birds wings behind its neck like it's hanging on Baker Beach. This will allow for a more even roast when you put it over the fire.

My Boy Chris Fitzpatrick layin down the law with the wood!

Gear!: You will need a couple things to accomplish this feat successfully.

1) A good fire pit. In the past we've always used Kiln brick. However, you could use regular brick, but it's more likely to break down at a faster rate than your fire brick, and i'm not sure it will insulate and radiate heat as well. Here's a picture of the foundation for the cooking pit I built with my buddy the-soon-to-be-legendary Art Historian Samuel Johnson. He may sit around Harvard and whine about Sartre, but give that boy a trowel and he can lay some brick!

2) A roasting rack. Ironically my buddy Bird helped me by welding up a sweet rack to roast...well..my bird. This was a simple cross beam structure with a loop at the bottom to secure chain. I've use fancier and more ghetto versions.... your call, but might as well make it fancy... it gives you something to talk about while your drinking by the fire

3) A cast-iron pot. This is extremely important for two reasons a) it will catch all the drippings and prevent a flame up under your turkey and there by scorching the skin, and b) this will evenly radiate heat upwards as conduction will be good in this bit, but radiation will certainly be essential. This doesn't have to be too fancy of a pot since it's going to take a real beating... but if you've got an extra Le Creuset to throw in a fire why not? It'll be a lot easier to clean up afterwards.

4) A meat thermometer: I've used an analog one in the past, but for the price, you really should use digital.

5) and perhaps most importantly... WOOD! Wood is going to be a choice decision that will largely be determined by location. In the Bay Area we were blessed with a plethora of options ( surprise surprise ) but kept away from anything overly aromatic i.e. Eucalyptus. We used almond because of it's ability to impart a "sweet" flavor to the meat, and in Banff, Canada, we used Spruce. Both woods had their issues: Almond was nice, but didn't seem to throw a nice heat / Spruce gave off way too much flame and would just burn up so that I was feeding the fire constantly. The Cadillac of woods was found in Far West Texas: MESQUITE! Mesquite cooks like a dream: hot coals that burn forever, a beautiful scent, and of course the most amazing smoke flavor you could ever impart on the skin of a turkey. In the end, try to get a hard wood, and one that's going to taste good.

The rest is relatively simple. Use a couple of bricks in the center to create a base for your pot. Build a good fire over them, and once they're down to a solid bed of coals, place your pot over them. String up your turkey on the rack and hang it to a height over the fire that you can hold your hand over for about 5 seconds. Of course, you're going to keep an eye on this bird, and you can raise it up or down depending on how quickly or slowly it's browning. Because this isn't a rotisserie you're going to have to flip this bird half way through. A 14 lb bird takes about 6 hours to roast, so 3 hours in, take the bird off, lay it on a clean surface, and re-tie it on the other side. Roast that bird until it's about 170ºF or 76ºC and then pull it off the fire.

VOILA!

Now we've done this several times: Bay Area, Banff, Marfa, but it has always been a pot-luck for artists. Our Than

ksgiving in Banff was especially productive as we did a ceramics workshop for the dinner. Participants in the Polymath Breakthrough residency - led by none other than the illustrious Joseph Del Pesco - were invited to make their own diner ware for the feast. ( The lovely Kristina Lee Podesva fashions the cup for her Thanksgiving dinner.)

(Ceramic plate with roasted yams made by one of the participants)

In many ways I feel that the art community I find myself in has been some of the most supportive family I could have ever imagined, and I cherish every moment I have with them. As a result, I can think of no better holiday to re-appropriate than the one that let's me tell the ones I love how thankful I am to have them in my life with food!

NOW FOR SOME PICTURES!

The roasting set up at our former home in the Bay Area

Turkey roasting in front of the Salt Kiln in Banff

Dinner in the Bay Area

Dinner in Banff, Canada at the Banff Center

West-Texas Food-Off

The other day we had a good ‘ol West Texas cook off -Marfa Style!- with local celebrity chef Rocky Barnett. Here’s a great video of Rocky doing his thing in the Hudson Valley:

Well it all started by asking if we could see Rocky’s Pigs. As you might recall Rocky was mentioned in the New York Times recently for his pig raising: http://travel.nytimes.com/2009/11/22/travel/22journeys.html

Rocky took us out to his friend Mary Farley’s house where he keeps his pigs.

Mary is a major bird enthusiasts and has a ton of chickens.... well not literally, but there has to be over twenty. We lucked out because a couple of the hens had laid eggs. Mary raises a variety of chickens so the hues of the eggs ranged from toasty browns to subtle shades of turquoise; gorgeous!

Then Rocky took us to meet his little piggies… which are anything but small. When we arrived at their pens they were all foaming at the mouth. Rocky explained to us to not be concerned as his pigs know that when they hear Rocky coming it means food, so they start salivating like a fat kid in Cafe Tartine (That one's for you Eddy). I’ve met some cute pigs in my day, but these pigs were far from cuddly…. that’s good because it means they’ll be easier to eat. After we wrapped up tending the pigs we headed back to his place for a sip of Tequila. Rocky asked us if we’d like to try something different, and broke out a bottle of homemade Kahlua made by local legend “Crazy Johnny.” Johnny is infamous for his vintage Cadillac limo complete with long horns on the hood and murals of the West Texas landscape on the side, and for his home brewed sotol-based absinthe. I had this stuff once and it nearly killed me, so when Rocky broke out the Kahlua I was a bit hesitant. The liquor was fantastic! Made from local mesquite honey and Big Bend coffee, Johnny’s Kahlua kicked the juevos out of the brand name.

After a couple of drinks it occurred to us to use what we had collectively in our two refrigerators and cook ourselves a feast for dinner. Emily and I raced home to raid our fridge, and stopped by the local grocery store to pick up some Dead Guy Ale, Sammy Smiths, and some Early Grey chocolate. We got back to his place and organized the ingredients:

Baby Butter Lettuce, Beets, Roasted Pumpkin and Avacados, Lavender Butter, fresh baked homemade bread, Gruyere cheese, Crème Fraîche, Broccoli, Vanilla Beans, Milk, Fresh Eggs, Cilantro, Bosc Pears, limes, and shallots. To top it off I brought some home made venison sausage that Emily’s father had caught, and Rocky brought some boudin sausage he had just acquired from the eastern part of the state.

Here’s what we made:

Pear Gruyere bruscetta sautéed in lavender butter and vanilla bean.

Quiche with a fresh butter cilantro crust with Gruyere, broccoli, shallots and freshly laid eggs.

Roasted Beet Avocado Pumpkin salad in a balsamic and lime zest vinaigrette with butter lettuce and crème fraîche dressing

Baked sausage with stone ground mustard

And of course, homemade Kahlua with Earl Grey chocolate.

As you might imagine, we went home fat and happy. Three cheers to Rocky.

Communal eating is incredibly important to me. If I could I would do it every night, most Americans do not embrace such a concept. When I lived in Florence I hug out with a group of Tuscan artists, many of whom were just barely getting by financially. Despite their financial difficulties these artists ate like kings because each would bring an ingredient for the feast, and an inexpensive bottle of wine (it's true, you can get good wine on the cheap in Tuscany). Thirty or so artists would show up and we would spend hours eating pastas, salamis, salads, beans, soups, bread...you name it. Furthermore, these meals established a positive community, a group of people who genuinely cared for eachother based on the dialogs they had created over delicious meals. These dinners were the inspiration for the meals Emily and I would later serve for our friends when we lived in the Bay Area, and during special events when we are abroad.

In my opinion the United States is in a spiritual depression, one created through the isolation of consumer culture. This country needs a pick-me-up, and I think a great beginning would be if people could begin to cook and eat together. I'm sure you've had a dinner party before, but do it more often. Ask your friends to each bring what they can or have at home and see what you can create. Find spaces to cook and eat in large numbers. If your kitchen is too small, go on the roof. If the roof is out of the question then find a park, or even a community center. Spaces for creating community surround us, and food is the optimal catalyst.