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Turkey, Stewed
A small turkey should be chosen for this dish. Stuff it, and truss it as for roasting. Dissolve two ounces of butter in a stewpan just large enough to hold the bird, and add two large slices of fat bacon cut into dice. Lay the bird in this, put it over a clear fire, and when it is brightly browned on one side turn it upon the other. Lift it out, drain it, and put it into another stewpan, with a bunch of parsley, a large blade of mace, and a clove of garlic or not, as preferred. Cover the bird with good stock, add a little pepper and salt, and let it simmer gently until it is half-cooked. Put in a glassful of Madeira, and let the turkey remain until done. Take it up, and put it on a dish in a hot oven, that it may retain its heat for a few minutes. Strain and skim the gravy, thicken with a little brown thickening, and let it boil a minute or two. Pour a little of it round the turkey, and send the rest to table in a tureen. Oyster sauce is an excellent accompaniment to this dish, and a boned and pounded anchovy and a small shallot may be advantageously added to the forcemeat with which the bird is stuffed. Time to stew the turkey, one hour and a half. Probable cost, 6s. to 12s. Sufficient for five or six persons.
A braise in all but name: the bird is browned in fat, then simmered in stock and Madeira and served with a thickened, strained gravy. The instructions are sound, but the timing and the stuffing both need modern judgement.
- The hinge: cook to temperature, not to the clockAn hour and a half may not bring a stuffed bird to a safe internal temperature throughout. Work to 165F/74C at the thickest part of the thigh, and the same in the centre of the stuffing, rather than to the stated time.
- "A small turkey"Probably a bird in the region of 6-10 lb, in keeping with the stated yield of five or six people. Anything larger will not fit "a stewpan just large enough to hold the bird" and will not cook evenly in liquid; a large lidded casserole or a deep braising pan is the modern vessel.
- Stuffing inside the birdForcemeat in the cavity of a simmered bird heats slowly and unpredictably. Many cooks now bake the stuffing separately in a dish and simmer the turkey with only aromatics inside, which also gives cleaner slices.
- A glassful of MadeiraA Victorian wine glass is about 2 fl oz / 60 ml, not a modern tumbler. Use a dry or medium Madeira, or dry sherry.
- Blade of maceA blade is one piece of the lacy aril that covers the nutmeg seed; conversions vary, but roughly a quarter to a half teaspoon of ground mace if you cannot find whole. It is a warm, nutmeg-like note and easy to overdo.
- Brown thickeningThe book's standing preparation of flour browned with butter, close to a brown roux. Whisk a spoonful into the strained, skimmed liquid, or use beurre manie off the heat; two or three minutes at a simmer removes the raw flour taste.
- Stock quantity"Cover the bird" will take several quarts of good stock even in a snug pan. Half-covering and turning the bird once works as well and leaves a more concentrated gravy.
- Keeping it hotThe "hot oven" here is only a place to keep the bird warm for the few minutes the recipe allows. Hold it at 150-170F, loosely covered, while you finish the sauce.
- Cost and yieldSix to twelve shillings placed this squarely in a comfortable household. Five or six people is realistic for a 6-8 lb bird served with sauce and accompaniments.
Turkeys reached European kitchens from Mexico in the sixteenth century and by the time Cassell's dictionary was compiled in the 1870s and 1880s were an established English festive bird, usually roasted. This recipe takes a different route: the browning in butter and diced fat bacon, the aromatic stock bath and the finishing wine make it a braise, the bird cooked covered in liquid rather than roasted. The Madeira and the oyster sauce both mark the dish as a formal one; oysters had been cheap and abundant enough in Britain to serve as a routine garnish, though by the 1870s and 1880s the beds were declining and prices rising, and the anchovy and shallot slipped into the forcemeat are typical of the period's fondness for a savoury, faintly salty undertone in poultry stuffings. The precise costings, given in shillings and repeated throughout the book, were a selling point for a work aimed at households budgeting their table.