Heritage turkeys aren’t your usual holiday birds of a feather

Turkeys wander around at one of Coon Rock Farm's free range areas.
The local sustainable family farm raises lean heritage turkeys for sale
each Thanksgiving. (Photos by Chuck Liddy/The News & Observer)

HILLSBOROUGH-- With their scaly legs and fierce temperaments, lean heritage turkeys appear to have more in common with dinosaurs than their rotund grocery store cousins. And without farmers committed to making these specialty breeds available for holiday tables, they’d just as likely be extinct.

“It’s an interesting concept that we raise these breeds, and kill them, to keep them viable,” says Jamie DeMent of Coon Rock Farm. “Without customers who want to serve them at Thanksgiving, they’d all be gone.”

Before last week, a raucous mix of about 300 specialty birds roamed the sustainable, 55-acre farm, which is tucked into a bend of the Eno River. Their lives were very different from turkeys raised at so-called factory farms, which are kept in tight quarters and fattened up at a rate two to three times faster than those raised outdoors on pasture.

“Most commercial turkeys have gigantic breasts that throw off their balance and make it difficult to get around. It actually prevents Tom and Tina Turkey from natural procreation,” DeMent says, noting that spirited heritage birds enjoy considerable freedom and protein-rich foraging on land shared with cows and pigs. “Our customers want to know that their bird had a happy life. I can’t promise it was happy, but I can guarantee that it was natural and healthy, and its end was humane.”

DeMent and Richard Holcomb, who bought Coon Rock Farm 12 years ago this month, have been raising heritage turkeys for seven years. They started with a few pairs of registered breeds but now save the best from each year’s flock to repopulate the following season’s stock. They grow several types not only to ward against issues that might affect one breed and not others, but also to ensure that they have a range of sizes to meet consumer needs.

“Sometimes there’s just two people at the holiday table but they still want a turkey,” says DeMent, noting that a petite Beltsville White, which resembles a very large chicken, might be ideal. “For those who want a big, meaty bird to feed a crowd, we’ve got them.”

Through a snug plastic bag, DeMent lightly pokes the muscular thigh of a bird that was just processed in the spacious abbatoir located directly across from the front door of her 1870s farm house. “You can tell that bird spent a lot of time walking around here,” she says of the outstretched limb, which might surprise those accustomed to buying a turkey shaped more like a bowling ball. “That’s a lot of meat.”

And it doesn’t come cheap. Like many other small-scale growers, Coon Rock Farm requires a $50 down payment to reserve a bird. Early orders are billed at $9 per pound, with later ones at $10 per pound.

This means that many folks gladly fork over upward of $200 to feed their family and friends – not counting sides. According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, the average price for whole, frozen turkey in the South is $1.60 per pound, though many grocery stores slash prices as loss leaders.

DeMent and Holcomb strive to educate and advise their customers about the benefits of consuming heritage poultry.

I HAD TO EXPLAIN THAT OUR BIRDS DON’T HAVE POP-UP THERMOMETERS. IF IT’S NOT ON THEM IN THE PASTURE, IT’S NOT IN THE BAG.

Jamie DeMent of Coon Rock Farm

“There’s a bigger difference between commercial and heritage birds than other commercial and heritage meats,” Holcolmb says. “With turkeys, 10 percent of a commercial bird’s weight is (saline) flavor enhancer. Without that, it would taste like nothing. And since those birds never move, the texture of the meat is like mush.”

A more muscled bird requires a different approach to cooking, a fact they say many customers forget despite numerous email reminders.

“One year, someone called and said they had cooked their bird for eight hours and the pop-up thermometer still was not working,” DeMent recalls with a laugh. “I had to explain that our birds don’t have pop-up thermometers. If it’s not on them in the pasture, it’s not in the bag.”

Coon Rock Farm recommends having a proper thermometer on hand and generally following the heritage turkey technique prescribed by Food Network host Alton Brown, which is available online. Brown begins with a wet brine to keep the bird moist and flavorful. Cooking starts in a hot oven to turn the fatty skin into a crisp, moisture-retaining shell, then he dials the temperature down to ensure even roasting. The method can yield improved results with commercial turkeys, too.

TO KEEP CUSTOMERS ENGAGED IN THE MONTHS THAT OFTEN PASS BETWEEN ORDER AND DELIVERY, HOLCOMB INDULGES THEM WITH EMAILED PHOTOS AND VIDEOS OF THE MATURING FLOCK OUTSIDE DOING THEIR THING. IT’S KIND OF LIKE GETTING PICTURES OF YOUR KIDS AT SUMMER CAMP.

To keep customers engaged in the months that often pass between order and delivery, Holcomb indulges them with emailed photos and videos of the maturing flock outside doing their thing. It’s kind of like getting pictures of your kids at summer camp, except the kids get to come home and eat the bird with you.

In the days leading to Thanksgiving, Holcomb says they receive constant emails and phone calls, especially from anxious first timers.

“He always hands off the nervous and crying ones to me,” DeMent says. “Sometimes it’s really sad, like their mama died and they have no idea how she did things. One year, I met a lady at a farmers market and she had a complete meltdown as soon as she picked up the bird to take it home. Taking on that responsibility can be a very emotional experience for people.”

DeMent, however, is matter of fact about their family celebration. “We’ll cook one of the turkeys, probably one that got a clipped wing and isn’t pretty enough to sell,” she says as Holcomb shrugs in bemused acknowledgement. “But by the time we sit down to eat, we’re all pretty much over it. We’ll be having ham and enjoying some bourbon.”

This post first appeared in The News & Observer on Thanksgiving, Nov. 25.

Read more here: http://www.newsobserver.com/news/business/article46492870.html#storylink=cpy

Frances Mayes brings the flavor of Tuscany home for the holidays

Author and cookbook writer Frances Mayes will be the guest speaker at the 7 p.m. Wednesday meeting of Culinary Historians of Piedmont North Carolina (CHOPNC) at Flyleaf Books in Chapel Hill. The presentation will include samplings of her freshly pressed Bramasole Olive Oil. The event is free and open to the public.

Frances Mayes (Photo by John Gillooly)

While it may be wrong to judge a book by its cover, Frances Mayes says it’s not a bad idea to judge an unfamiliar olive oil by its price.

“In American cooking, olive oil is still the most mysterious and misunderstood ingredient,” says Mayes, author of Under the Tuscan Sun and, with her husband Edward Mayes, last year’s The Tuscan Sun Cookbook. “Italians would never consider using most of what passes for olive oil here.”

Mayes should know. She and her husband have spent much of the past 23 years living on their Bramasole estate in Tuscany, where they tend a grove of 600 olive trees on about 10 acres of rolling land. A 500 ml bottle of their small-batch oil sells for about $30 – if you’re fast enough to order some before it sells out.

“It you haven’t tasted freshly pressed olive oil, you can’t imagine how different it is,” says Mayes, who likens the unadulterated result to heady fruit juice. “When it comes gushing from the press, it looks just like melted emeralds. It has a little kick at the back of your throat for a nice peppery finish.”

Fresh-pressed Bremasole Olive Oil
streams in brilliant green torrents that
Mayes likens to "melted emeralds."

Mayes, who just returned to the couple’s Hillsborough home after completing this year’s harvest, says that premium Tuscan olive oil also provides excellent health benefits. “When it’s first pressed and you have it on your salad, it’s like taking an ibuprofen,” she says. “The chemical compounds are similar. It really does great things for your overall health.”

The rich color and health benefits both fade over time, she says, but olive oil kept in a dark bottle, away from sunlight, will still be good to use after 18 months or more. She reserves fresh-pressed oil for salads and garnish, preferring oil that has mellowed for a few months for general cooking. It is the only oil she uses.

Indeed, Mayes can barely contain her disgust with commercially processed oils, such as canola and vegetable blends. “There is a video on YouTube about canola oil being processed with all these terrible additives,” she says with an audible shudder. “I know Thomas Keller likes to cook with canola oil; I’ve always wanted to send him an email about it.”

Mayes is likewise frustrated that food lovers will splurge on some things but scrimp on quality olive oil.

“People don’t think twice about spending $30 for a bottle of wine at dinner, but they hesitate over a bottle of fine olive oil for their kitchen, which will last a long time,” she says. “There’s just no getting around it: With olive oil, you get what you pay for. If it’s cheap, it’s just no good.”

Mayes says they’ve probably never even broken even on the cost of producing their oil, and likely never will.

“That’s not why we do it. It’s part of life in Italy. To me, it’s like Christmas,” she says. “Everyone gets involved: the mayor, your doctor, your neighbors. We have a big celebration at the end of the harvest, but on a daily basis, it’s so beautiful and peaceful out there. Those old trees are like presences.”

When not in the fields, Mayes has been communing with presences of her childhood for the forthcoming Under Magnolia: A Southern Memoir. It is scheduled for April 1 release.

“It’s my return-to-my-roots book,” says Mayes, who writes about growing up in small-town Fitzgerald, Ga., a place that makes Hillsborough feel welcomingly familiar. “Hillsborough certainly is more sophisticated, in terms of being literary, but there are many similarities. We’ve lived in a lot of places, but I do feel very much at home here.”

For the past six years, the couple has lived part-time in a restored inn and tavern that was built in 1806. “It sounds really big but it had perhaps two guest rooms,” she explains. “It would have served people doing business at the old grist mill down the road. Also, we’re right on the Eno, so if the water was high and they couldn’t cross, people likely would have come here to spend the night.”

Mayes looks forward to welcoming family and friends to their home for Thanksgiving, where she will roast a traditional American-style turkey as well as a Tuscan-inspired rolled turkey breast.

“It’s simple, really,” she says, noting the recipe is not in The Tuscan Sun Cookbook. “You open the breast and flatten it like a book. I cover it with ground turkey and sausage then add other things like spinach and pistachio nuts.”

Roll the turkey breast, making sure to keep the filling well tucked, then wrap with thin slices of pancetta and truss with kitchen twine. “Put it a LeCruest (or Dutch oven) with a little white wine, tuck it in the oven and leave it alone until it’s done,” she says. “It’s moist and wonderful and people are always impressed when it’s sliced. It’s better than any roast turkey I’ve ever made.”

Mayes likes to offer her guests an ample choice of vegetable side dishes, including her Green Beans with Black Olives – a simple salad that can be prepared in advance.

Green Beans with Black Olives
Reprinted by permission of Frances Mayes from The Tuscan Sun Cookbook (Clarkson Potter, 2012)

Serves 8

2 pounds slender green beans, topped and tailed
2 yellow onions, finely chopped
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
4-5 slices pancetta

For the marinade:
¾ cup extra-virgin olive oil
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon sugar
¼ teaspoon pepperocini (red pepper flakes)
2 tablespoons chopped fresh tarragon leaves or 1 tablespoon dried
2 tablespoons lemon juice
½ cup black olives, pitted
juice of 1 orange and think strips of peel

Steam the beans just until barely done, about 5 minutes. Empty them into a 9x13-inch baking dish. In a small skillet over medium-low heat, sauté the onions in 2 tablespoons of the olive oil for about 3 minutes, or until completely cooked. Mix the onions with the beans in the baking dish.

Combine the marinade ingredients in a jar and shake well. Pour the marinade over the beans and onions, cover, and let rest in the fridge for 6 hours or longer, turning them over several times.

In a small skillet over medium heat, cook the pancetta in the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil until crisp, about 2 minutes on each side. Drain on absorbent paper towels. Crumble the pancetta over the top and serve chilled or at room temperature.