Bistro Turkey Calzone

Mother's Day. I called Mama at seven in the morning because she's been up since five and if you call Cheryl Carter after church she'll talk for three minutes and say she has to go check on the greens. I caught her before the greens. I said, "Happy Mother's Day, Mama. Thank you for teaching me to cook." She was quiet for a second Γçö Mama is never quiet Γçö and then she said, "You taught yourself. I just showed you where the spoons were." That is the most generous lie anyone has ever told me, and I love her for it.

I made her a plate. Drove it to the east side duplex before church: smothered pork chops, mac and cheese, collard greens, and cornbread. Her recipes, cooked by her son, brought back to the kitchen that made them. She tasted the pork chops standing at the counter with a fork Γçö didn't even sit down Γçö and said, "The gravy's good." From Cheryl Carter, "the gravy's good" is a Pulitzer Prize. I'll take it. Dad was dressed for church, which meant he was wearing a tie and his feet were hurting but he'd never say so. He nodded at me. That was his review. Also sufficient.

Last game of the spring basketball session. We lost by six. The boys played hard. Marcus hit a floater in the lane that I didn't teach him Γçö he invented it in the moment, the way players do when the game starts living inside them instead of in front of them. Aiden ran the give-and-go we practiced and it almost worked, which at seven years old is the same as working. After the game I told them I was proud of them. Every single one. Jaylen, who still runs the wrong way sometimes. Devon, who fouls on every possession because he doesn't understand where his elbows are. All of them. I said, "We'll be back in the fall. Practice your dribbling this summer." Marcus said, "Are you still coaching?" I said yeah. He said, "Good." That one word paid me more than the plant does in a week.

Brianna picked up the kids Sunday evening. She said happy Mother's Day to herself, which made me laugh, which made her laugh, which is the best our relationship has been in months. I stood on the porch and watched them drive away and the apartment went quiet and I went inside and washed the dishes from dinner Γçö baked chicken and rice, simple, the first meal I ever learned Γçö and the quiet was just quiet. Not empty. Just waiting for Wednesday.

That Sunday evening after Brianna drove away with the kids, I stood over the sink washing rice off a pot and I already knew I’d want something with a little more heft by Wednesday — something that felt like an event, even a small one, because the week had been full in a way that deserved marking. The Bistro Turkey Calzone is what I come back to when I need to cook with my hands, fold something together, make something that looks like I meant it. Mama got the pork chops. The boys got the last game. This one’s for the quiet that comes after — and for whoever shows up Wednesday.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 lb pizza dough, store-bought or homemade, at room temperature
1 1/2 cups cooked turkey breast, shredded or diced
1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
1/2 cup whole-milk ricotta cheese
1/2 cup roasted red peppers, drained and sliced
1/4 cup sun-dried tomatoes, oil-packed, roughly chopped
2 tablespoons basil pesto
1 teaspoon Italian seasoning
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
Salt and black pepper to taste
1 egg, beaten, for egg wash
1 cup marinara sauce, warmed, for serving

Instructions

Preheat the oven. Heat oven to 400°F. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper and set aside.
Make the filling. In a large bowl, combine turkey, mozzarella, ricotta, roasted red peppers, sun-dried tomatoes, pesto, Italian seasoning, garlic powder, and red pepper flakes if using. Stir well to combine. Season with salt and black pepper to taste.
Divide and roll the dough. On a lightly floured surface, divide the dough into 4 equal portions. Roll each portion into a rough 8-inch circle about 1/4 inch thick.
Fill the calzones. Spoon an even portion of filling onto one half of each dough circle, leaving a 1-inch border around the edge. Do not overfill or the seam will split during baking.
Fold and seal. Fold the empty half of the dough over the filling to form a half-moon shape. Press the edges firmly together, then crimp by folding the edge over itself and pressing with the tines of a fork to seal completely.
Egg wash and vent. Transfer calzones to the prepared baking sheet. Brush the tops and edges generously with beaten egg. Cut 2 to 3 small slits in the top of each calzone to allow steam to escape.
Bake. Bake for 22 to 25 minutes, until the crust is deep golden brown and firm to the touch. Let rest 5 minutes before serving.
Serve. Plate each calzone with a small bowl or pour of warm marinara sauce alongside for dipping.

Nutrition (per serving)

Bistro Turkey Calzone — Something to Carry the Week Home In