I’ve had a lot of change in my life. Confronted the bad, seized the good, walked
away from indifferent and dull. Far from
afraid of change, I am someone who embraces it—maybe even a little too much.
So it is interesting, even curious, that the Thanksgiving
menu never, ever changes. Christmas, Easter, Fourth of July: all are
reconsidered, reconfigured, revised, reinvented every year. But Thanksgiving’s only concession in thirty-five
years has been to hold back on the number of dishes when the group is
smaller—as it is this year. That means,
with some regret, one less vegetable, and one less pie.
In our house, the most essential dish—after the turkey of
course—is the Pennsylvania Dutch potato filling that has been on our
Thanksgiving table since I was a child. My grandmother made it every year, then
my mother, now me. We sometimes refer to it as stuffing, but it is never put in
the turkey, but rather baked separately.
A cross between stuffing and mashed potatoes, properly made it is moist,
rich but fluffy, smooth but textured. Leftovers are prized, hot or cold.
Given its reliable presence this time of year, I was
surprised to find that I have never provided a recipe for it in a Thanksgiving
post. Most likely because it was
decimated for picture-taking before I even thought of it. Or maybe because
there really isn’t a recipe, in the sense of one written down. It’s something
that is made largely be feel. Even so, that’s an oversight that I hereby
correct. You likely have your own immutable menu, but if not, I do think this
is worth a try if you like mashed potatoes or stuffing. And really, who
doesn’t?
The Family Potato Filling
Other than the potatoes and bread, add the ingredients gradually
(as indicated) to get the taste and texture you want. I always make this up to the
point of baking the day ahead. Serves 12
or more.
5 lb russet potatoes
2 lb traditional good-quality white bread, such as
Pepperidge Farm original
12-16 oz unsalted butter for sautéing bread
1 cup milk, approx., heated
1 large onion, medium dice
4-6 celery stalks, medium dice (be sure to string the celery
first)
1-2 tea or more fresh dried thyme
salt and pepper to taste
3-4 T additional butter
Early on the day or the night before you make it, cut the
crusts off the bread and lay out on a sheet pan to dry out a bit, turning
occasionally; bring the crusts out to the birds immediately so you don’t eat
them all dipped in soft butter (who does that??). Cut the bread into cubes, 4x4 and leave
spread out to dry.
Peel and cut the potatoes into even chunks. Bring to a boil in a large pot of salted water and cook until tender, or they
slip off an inserted knife.
While the potatoes are cooking, sauté the bread cubes. If
you have them, use two large frying pans; melt 4 oz butter in each, add the
bread in an even layer (do not crowd the pan), and cook, tossing occasionally
until crisp and golden, adding butter as needed. You will need to do them in
perhaps 4 batches; remove to a bowl as you cook them, sprinkling them lightly
with salt, pepper, and thyme as you go, and set aside.
When the potatoes are done, drain them and place in your
biggest bowl; the upside-down lid of a Tupperware cake keeper works well. Mash
the potatoes, adding warm milk (start with ½ cup), salt, and pepper to achieve a
smooth consistency. I prefer to use an
old-fashioned potato masher or a ricer; if you use a mixer, be careful not to
overbeat or they will be tough. There is so much butter in the bread that you
don’t have to add any.
When the potatoes are smooth and still very warm, fold in
the sautéed bread and about ¾ (to start) of the diced celery and onion, or
about 1 cup each. Taste for texture, distribution of veggies, and seasoning;
mixture will be very firm but should not be super stiff or dry—it should still
feel creamy. Add a little more milk and additional salt, pepper, and thyme as
needed; the thyme should be clearly present but not dominant.
Butter two baking dishes; if you distribute the filling
among a large (say, a glass lasagna pan or a 3-qt soufflé dish) and a small
(e.g., a 9” baker or 1 ½ qt gratin), you may be lucky enough to have one
untouched for next day, and even defer heating it until you see if it is
needed. Spread the mixture into the pans evenly and dot generously with butter.
Cover with foil and refrigerate.
Remove from the refrigerator a good 4 or 5 hours ahead to
bring to room temperature. Bake in a 375 F oven—you can put it in after your
remove your turkey if you have a single oven—still covered with foil, for about
30 minutes (a deep dish takes longer to heat than a shallow one, so plan for
that), or until hot in the center (I plunge in a finger to test). Remove the
foil and bake another 10 minutes or so until browned and heaving. Serve in
generous spoonsful with the turkey gravy.
