November arrived cold. Not Vermont-cold-in-winter, which is a different category, but the first serious cold of the season — nights below twenty, ice on the puddles in the morning, breath visible when I go out to check the barn. The woodstove has been burning almost continuously. The house is tight and warm and the smell of it is everything that November should be: woodsmoke and something always on the stove.
Thanksgiving decision: Sarah and Jim and the boys will come. They'll drive up Wednesday, stay through the weekend, be careful about it. We talked it through. The drive is long but they'll come straight here. The boys have been mostly home, not socializing much. We decided the risk was acceptable and the alternative — a Thanksgiving apart — was not something anyone wanted. Some risks you take for what they protect.
I started planning the menu immediately. That's how I know something matters to me. The turkey, obviously, the 18-pound bird from the Hendersons' farm that I've already reserved. Helen's stuffing recipe, which is the touchstone of the whole meal — bread cubes and sage and celery and a amount of butter that I've learned not to question. The cranberry sauce from scratch, the gravy with proper drippings, the mashed potatoes that Teddy has strong opinions about (lumpy, with skins, which is correct).
I've been laying in stores. Extra flour, good butter, the makings of the cranberry sauce from the bags I put up this fall. The cellar is full of vegetables. The freezer is full of things I grew and made through the summer. If there is anything good about this year it is that I arrive at Thanksgiving better provisioned than any Thanksgiving I can remember.
Sage is the thread that runs through the whole Thanksgiving meal — it’s what makes Helen’s stuffing smell the way it does, what tells your nose before anything else that the day has properly begun. With Sarah and Jim and the boys coming Wednesday, I wanted something that would make Thanksgiving morning feel like an occasion in its own right, something that would carry that herb forward from the first meal of the day through to the last. These sage turkey sausage patties are what I’ve landed on — simple to pull together before the chaos of the big bird, and a quiet way of honoring the flavor that matters most to this particular table.
Sage Turkey Sausage Patties
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 8 patties
Ingredients
- 1 lb ground turkey (93% lean)
- 1 1/2 teaspoons rubbed dried sage
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/4 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/8 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
- 1 tablespoon olive oil or butter, for the skillet
Instructions
- Mix the sausage. In a large bowl, combine the ground turkey, sage, salt, pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, and red pepper flakes if using. Mix gently with your hands until just combined — do not overwork the meat.
- Form the patties. Divide the mixture into 8 equal portions and press each into a round patty about 1/2 inch thick. A consistent thickness ensures even cooking.
- Heat the skillet. Warm a large cast-iron or nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add the olive oil or butter and let it heat until shimmering.
- Cook the patties. Working in batches if needed, cook patties for 5 to 6 minutes per side, until golden brown on the outside and cooked through to 165°F internal temperature. Do not press down on the patties while cooking.
- Rest and serve. Transfer cooked patties to a plate and let rest for 2 minutes before serving. Best alongside eggs and good toast on a cold November morning.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 110 | Protein: 14g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 0g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 190mg