Bistro Turkey Sandwich

Thanksgiving prep week. The most important week of the year in this kitchen, the week when Diane Holloway stops being a crop insurance adjuster and becomes what she actually is: a woman who feeds people. The turkey is ordered — a twenty-pounder from the Ankeny butcher, fresh not frozen, because frozen turkeys are for people who don't plan ahead and I have been planning this turkey since September. The sides are listed, the ingredients are bought, the timeline is drafted on a piece of paper taped to the refrigerator that maps every dish to a cooking time and an oven temperature with the precision of a military operation, because Thanksgiving dinner for ten people IS a military operation and the general wears an apron and smells like sage.

Mom and Dad are coming. Kevin's parents too — Dale and Phyllis, making the drive from Newton, which is getting harder for Dale (he's seventy-four, his back is bad, and the drive is only thirty minutes but thirty minutes in a car is thirty minutes of complaining for Dale Holloway). But they're coming. Everyone is coming. The table will be full.

I prepped the cranberry sauce — fresh cranberries, sugar, orange zest, simmered until the berries burst and the sauce thickens into something that's tart and sweet and the color of a winter sunset. Canned cranberry sauce is fine for people who are fine with fine. I am not fine with fine. I am fine with excellent, and excellent means standing at the stove watching cranberries pop and smelling the orange zest steam rise and knowing that this sauce will be the best thing on the table that nobody talks about because cranberry sauce is the unsung hero of Thanksgiving and I will sing for it.

I also made the rolls — Marlene's rolls, the Saturday morning recipe scaled up for Thanksgiving. The dough rose in the red KitchenAid for the first time, and I stood and watched it spin and thought about all the Thanksgivings before this one — the farm kitchen, the massive table, the rolls rising in a bowl covered with a towel, Roger carving the turkey, Marlene directing traffic. All of those Thanksgivings happened in a kitchen that belongs to a corporation now. This Thanksgiving happens in my kitchen, in Des Moines, with a red mixer and a cracked wooden spoon and the same recipe and a different everything else. The recipe carries the kitchen carries the woman carries the holiday. Nothing is lost if you keep cooking.

The cranberry sauce is cooling on the counter and the rolls are done, and somewhere in the middle of all that prep I realized I hadn’t eaten since seven in the morning — which is what happens when you’re running a military operation in an apron. This bistro turkey sandwich is what I make during prep week, when the big bird is still days away but I need something substantial and good to keep me moving. It’s nothing like the formal feast I’m planning, and that’s exactly the point — it’s just a very good sandwich, the kind of thing Marlene would have handed you on a plate at the farm kitchen counter without ceremony and without apology.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 5 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 2

Ingredients

4 slices thick-cut sourdough or rustic country bread
8 oz roasted turkey breast, thinly sliced
4 slices provolone or Swiss cheese
1/4 cup whole-grain Dijon mustard
3 tablespoons mayonnaise
1/2 cup arugula or baby spinach
4 slices ripe tomato
1/4 small red onion, very thinly sliced
4 slices crispy cooked bacon (optional)
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, softened
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Instructions

Mix the spread. In a small bowl, stir together the Dijon mustard and mayonnaise until combined. Season lightly with salt and pepper. Set aside.
Butter and toast the bread. Spread softened butter on one side of each bread slice. Heat a large skillet or griddle over medium heat. Place bread butter-side down and toast for 2—3 minutes until golden and crisp. Remove from heat.
Melt the cheese. Lay cheese slices over the turkey on two of the bread slices while still in the warm pan. Cover loosely with a lid or foil for 1 minute to melt.
Assemble. Spread the mustard-mayo mixture generously on the unbuttered side of all four slices. Layer the turkey and melted cheese slices with arugula, tomato, red onion, and bacon if using. Season the tomato lightly with salt and pepper.
Close and press. Top each sandwich with the remaining bread slices, toasted side out. Press firmly, slice on the diagonal, and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Bistro Turkey Sandwich — Something to Keep the Cook Going During Thanksgiving Prep Week