Classic Herb and Sausage Stuffing

The week off. I took five days. The first stretch of five days off in seven years. The longness was disorienting. By day four the body had figured it out: write in the morning, walk in the afternoon, cook in the evening.

I wrote, more than usual. Not the blog. Other things. The journal. Drafts of essays I will not publish. A long letter to Reynaldo that I do not intend to send to anyone. The letter said the things you say to your dead father when you are thirty-four and have been without him for fifteen years and you have lived more of those years as an adult than as his daughter. The letter is in the journal. The letter is a kind of prayer in long form.

I walked the coastal trail every afternoon. The light was generous in the way fall light is generous — low, gold, brief. The trail was uncrowded by Tuesday afternoon. I exchanged the Alaskan trail nod with maybe a dozen people across five days. The trail nod is the small social currency of being outside in this state. The nod says: I see you, I respect you, the silence is enough.

I cooked one meal a day, slowly. Adobo. Sinigang. Caldereta. Tinola. Moose chili with cornbread, an experiment — moose meat from Pete's freezer, the chili recipe I have been making since college, the cornbread fluffy and yellow. The chili was good. Perhaps the best chili I have made.

I came back to work Saturday. The week off had done something. I was less raw. I was more ready. I worked the shift with the calm I usually have only at the start of a vacation, not at the end of one. Pete was right. Take days off for nothing. The nothing is the everything.

The moose chili got the most words in the journal that week, but it was the stuffing — made the third evening, low and slow while rain came off the inlet — that I keep returning to in memory. There’s something about the smell of sage and sausage browning together that makes a kitchen feel occupied in the right way, the way it felt when my father cooked. I’ve made this Classic Herb and Sausage Stuffing a dozen times, but that Tuesday in October, with nowhere to be and the letter to Reynaldo still drying in the journal, it tasted like the whole point of having a kitchen at all.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 50 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 10 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 lb pork sausage, casings removed
1 loaf (about 14 oz) day-old white or sourdough bread, cut into 3/4-inch cubes (about 10 cups)
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus more for the baking dish
1 large yellow onion, diced
3 stalks celery, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon fresh sage, finely chopped (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves (or 1 teaspoon dried)
2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped
2 cups low-sodium chicken broth, plus more as needed
2 large eggs, beaten
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper

Instructions

Dry the bread. If the bread cubes are not already stale, spread them on a baking sheet and toast at 300°F for 15 minutes, until dry but not browned. Transfer to a large mixing bowl and set aside.
Brown the sausage. Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the sausage and cook, breaking it up with a spoon, until browned and cooked through, about 7 minutes. Transfer the sausage to the bowl with the bread, leaving the drippings in the skillet.
Sauté the aromatics. Reduce heat to medium. Add the butter to the skillet and let it melt into the drippings. Add the onion and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 8 minutes. Add the garlic, sage, and thyme and cook 1 minute more, until fragrant. Scrape the entire mixture into the bowl with the bread and sausage.
Combine and moisten. Add the parsley, salt, and pepper to the bowl and toss everything gently to combine. Whisk together the broth and beaten eggs, then pour over the bread mixture. Toss until the bread is evenly moistened. If the mixture seems dry, add additional broth 1/4 cup at a time.
Bake. Preheat the oven to 375°F. Butter a 9x13-inch baking dish. Transfer the stuffing mixture to the prepared dish and spread into an even layer. Cover tightly with foil and bake for 30 minutes. Remove the foil and bake an additional 20 minutes, until the top is golden and crisp.
Rest and serve. Let the stuffing rest for 10 minutes before serving. It keeps well, covered, for up to four days — and reheats beautifully in a low oven.

Nutrition (per serving)

Classic Herb and Sausage Stuffing — The Week the Nothing Became Everything