By Thanksgiving is ten days away and the planning has taken on an enjoyable structure. Sarah and I talked through the menu on Sunday evening and the decision was made early: Teddy cooks the turkey and we build the rest of the menu around whatever he needs from us. He called me separately on Monday to discuss his approach, which I appreciated — he wanted a consultation, not just permission.
He has decided on a dry brine, which is the right call for the kind of oven we are working with. He wants to salt the bird three days out, leave it uncovered in the refrigerator on a rack to dry the skin, then roast it at high heat to start and lower heat to finish. This is essentially the method I have been using for twenty years, which I told him. He said he had arrived at it independently through his research and testing and I told him that was the correct way to arrive at anything — through your own investigation, not just trust in someone else's conclusion, even mine. He seemed to understand the compliment embedded in that statement.
He also wants to do the gravy entirely from the neck and giblets plus a quick turkey stock he will make the day before. I told him the giblet gravy recipe and he wrote it down and then came back with two modifications that are frankly better than mine — he wants to add a small amount of dry sherry at the end and to finish it with a little cold butter to gloss it. Both of those are correct culinary instincts. I told him so. He said his summer program instructor had covered sauce finishing and he had been looking for a place to apply it.
The lentil soup went on Monday and ran slow all day, the house filling with the smell of coriander and cumin and smoky lentils in a way that does more for a November afternoon than any amount of decorating. I baked cornbread alongside it and ate both for dinner with a glass of the cider, reading a collection of New England food writing I have been working through for a month. The kitchen was warm and outside it was thirty-four degrees and spitting sleet. There are evenings when the gap between inside and outside becomes a kind of gift.
With Teddy taking command of the turkey and his giblet gravy already promising to outshine mine, I found myself thinking about what the rest of the table should look like — not competing with his centerpiece, but supporting it. These candied yams with bourbon felt exactly right: deeply sweet, faintly smoky from the spirit, and warm in the way that a November kitchen should be. It is the kind of dish that asks very little of you while the turkey does its long, careful work in the oven, and the bourbon finish gives it just enough adult complexity to sit comfortably alongside Teddy’s sherry-and-butter gravy.
Candied Yams with Bourbon
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 4 pounds yams or sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch rounds
- 1/2 cup unsalted butter (1 stick)
- 1 cup packed dark brown sugar
- 1/4 cup bourbon
- 1/4 cup pure maple syrup
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
- 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1 1/2 cups mini marshmallows (optional, for topping)
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 375°F. Peel the yams and slice them into rounds about 1 inch thick. Arrange them in a single layer in a large baking dish (9x13 works well), overlapping slightly if needed.
- Make the bourbon caramel. In a small saucepan over medium heat, melt the butter. Add the brown sugar, maple syrup, bourbon, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, and salt. Stir and cook for 2—3 minutes until the sugar dissolves and the mixture is smooth and glossy. Do not let it boil hard.
- Coat the yams. Pour the bourbon caramel evenly over the yams, making sure to coat the tops of all the slices. Tilt the dish gently to distribute the sauce into the gaps.
- Bake, basting occasionally. Cover the dish tightly with foil and bake for 30 minutes. Remove the foil, baste the yams with the pooled sauce from the bottom of the dish, and return to the oven uncovered for another 12—15 minutes, until the yams are completely tender when pierced with a fork and the sauce has thickened into a deep, glossy glaze.
- Optional marshmallow finish. If using marshmallows, scatter them over the top of the yams in the final 5 minutes of baking and switch the oven to broil for 1—2 minutes, watching closely, until the marshmallows are golden and lightly toasted.
- Rest and serve. Remove from the oven and let sit for 5 minutes before serving. Spoon extra sauce from the bottom of the dish over the top before bringing to the table.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 390 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 67g | Fiber: 5g | Sodium: 180mg