By October 2025. Fall in Memphis, and I am 66, walking the neighborhood in my light jacket, watching the leaves turn on the oaks and maples that line Deadrick Avenue. The smoker is happy in fall — the cooler air holds the smoke lower, keeps it closer to the meat, and the results are always a shade better in October than in July, as if the season itself is a seasoning.
Rosetta beside me through the week, steady as ever, the woman who runs this household with the precision of a hospital ward and the heart of a mother who has loved fiercely for 41 years of marriage.
Comfort food this week: a big pot of collard greens with smoked turkey neck, simmered for three hours until the greens were dark and silky and the pot liquor was a treasure. The kitchen smelled like Mama's kitchen in the shotgun house, and I stood at the stove and stirred and thought about hands — her hands, small and strong, teaching mine everything they know about turning humble ingredients into something that feeds not just the body but the soul.
I sat in the lawn chair next to Uncle Clyde's smoker as the dark came on, and I thought about what I always think about: the chain. From Clyde to me. From me to Trey, maybe, or Jerome, or whoever comes next with the patience and the hands and the willingness to stand next to a fire at three in the morning and wait for something good to happen. The chain doesn't break. The fire doesn't stop. And I am here, 66 years old, in a lawn chair in Orange Mound, Memphis, Tennessee, watching the smoke rise, and the rising is the living, and the living is the gift.
All that smoke and memory put me in the mood to feed people — not just the long, patient cook but the kind of thing you set out on the table when folks drift over and the fire’s still going and nobody wants to leave just yet. Rosetta’s the one who reminded me we hadn’t made a Turkey Cheese Ball in a while, and she was right, the way she’s always right about what a gathering needs. It’s the kind of recipe Uncle Clyde would’ve had no patience for — too quick, too easy — but that’s exactly why it belongs on a night like this, when the hard, slow work is already done and all that’s left is the company.
Turkey Cheese Ball
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes + 1 hour chilling | Servings: 10–12
Ingredients
- 2 (8 oz) packages cream cheese, softened
- 1 1/2 cups finely chopped cooked turkey (smoked or roasted)
- 1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese
- 1/4 cup finely diced green onions
- 2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
- 1 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional)
- 1 cup chopped pecans (for rolling)
- 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, finely chopped (for rolling)
- Crackers, sliced baguette, or celery sticks for serving
Instructions
- Mix the base. In a large bowl, beat the softened cream cheese until smooth. Add the shredded cheddar, chopped turkey, green onions, Worcestershire sauce, garlic powder, smoked paprika, black pepper, and cayenne if using. Stir until everything is evenly combined.
- Shape the ball. Turn the mixture out onto a sheet of plastic wrap. Use the wrap to help you shape the mixture into a tight, round ball. Wrap it fully and refrigerate for at least 1 hour, or up to overnight, until firm enough to hold its shape.
- Prepare the coating. On a flat plate or shallow dish, combine the chopped pecans and parsley. Mix together with your fingers until evenly distributed.
- Coat the cheese ball. Unwrap the chilled cheese ball and roll it through the pecan-parsley mixture, pressing gently so the coating adheres on all sides. Return to the refrigerator until ready to serve.
- Serve. Set the cheese ball on a serving board or plate surrounded by crackers, baguette slices, or celery. Let it sit at room temperature for 10 minutes before serving so it softens slightly for easy spreading.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 280 | Protein: 12g | Fat: 24g | Carbs: 4g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 340mg