October, and Wren has been here every weekend since deer season opened. I gave her a rifle in September — not new, the one I've had for twenty years and know well — and we spent three mornings before the season adjusting her scope and working on her form. She's precise and patient, which are the only two things that matter before the rest. We talked through shot placement many times, not as rote learning but as understanding: why this angle, what you're avoiding, what the animal deserves from the moment you decide.
On a Saturday morning in mid-October, we were in the stand before dawn and a young doe came in at six forty-five, moving along the creek at an unhurried pace, pausing at the edge of the clearing. Wren had her rifle up before I said anything. She was steady. She waited for the deer to still completely and then she took the shot.
It was clean and quick and exactly right. We sat in the stand for two minutes in silence, the way you do after, to give the deer time and to give yourself time, and then climbed down and walked to where it lay. Wren knelt and put her hand on it for a moment, the same gesture I make without thinking, the gesture I saw her grandmother make, and then stood up and looked at me. Her face was completely clear. She said: "Thank you." Not to me. To the deer. I said the same.
We processed it together, Wren doing most of the work, me guiding only when she asked. She was methodical and careful and when it was done she said she wanted to cook it herself for the first meal. I said obviously. She said she was thinking venison stew with dried chiles and juniper. I said she was right about that.
Wren had said venison stew with dried chiles and juniper, and she was right about that — but that meal would come later, after the cuts had rested. For the evening of the day itself, we wanted something that honored the same instincts she’d shown in the field: patient, deliberate, nothing wasted. A citrus herb roast asks you to slow down, to let the heat and the aromatics do their work without rushing, and that felt exactly like the right thing to cook on the day she thanked a deer and meant it.
Citrus Herb Roasted Turkey Breast
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 1 hr 30 min | Total Time: 1 hr 45 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 bone-in turkey breast (5–6 lbs)
- 3 tablespoons olive oil
- 3 garlic cloves, minced
- 1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves
- 1 tablespoon fresh rosemary, finely chopped
- 1 tablespoon fresh sage, finely chopped
- Zest of 1 lemon
- Zest of 1 orange
- 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
- 1 tablespoon fresh orange juice
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
- 1 cup low-sodium chicken or turkey broth
Instructions
- Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 325°F. Set a roasting rack inside a roasting pan and set aside.
- Make the herb rub. In a small bowl, combine the olive oil, minced garlic, thyme, rosemary, sage, lemon zest, orange zest, lemon juice, orange juice, salt, and pepper. Stir until you have a cohesive paste.
- Prep the turkey. Pat the turkey breast completely dry with paper towels. Using your fingers, carefully loosen the skin from the meat without tearing it. Spread half the herb rub directly onto the meat under the skin, then smooth the skin back down. Rub the remaining paste evenly over the outside of the skin.
- Roast. Place the turkey breast skin-side up on the roasting rack. Pour the broth into the bottom of the pan. Roast uncovered for approximately 1 hour 30 minutes, or until an instant-read thermometer inserted into the thickest part of the breast reads 165°F. If the skin begins to brown too quickly, tent loosely with foil.
- Rest before carving. Remove the pan from the oven and let the turkey rest, uncovered, for at least 15 minutes before slicing. This allows the juices to redistribute throughout the meat.
- Serve. Carve the breast into 1/2-inch slices and spoon any pan drippings over the top before bringing to the table.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 45g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 2g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 390mg