Turkey Swiss Sloppy Joes

Thanksgiving is next week and I am cooking. I am cooking all of it. Last year, Mom made Thanksgiving because I was on chemo and couldn't stand long enough to baste a turkey. This year, I am making the turkey and the stuffing and the mashed potatoes and the green bean casserole and the cranberry sauce and the rolls and the pie. Every dish. From scratch. In my kitchen. With my hands. Because I can. Because last year I couldn't, and this year I can, and the distance between couldn't and can is the distance of a lifetime.

I started prep this week: made the cranberry sauce (fresh cranberries, sugar, orange zest, simmered until it gels), bought the turkey (sixteen pounds, enough for eight people, though we'll be five), began thawing it in the refrigerator. The turkey will take four days to thaw, which is the kind of slow, deliberate preparation that I find deeply satisfying. Cooking a Thanksgiving turkey is a week-long commitment, and commitment is something I am currently very good at, because commitment is just stubbornness wearing a nicer outfit.

Mason asked if Daddy is coming for Thanksgiving. I said no. He said, "Why not?" I said, "Daddy is having Thanksgiving with his friends in McCall." He said, "Oh. Okay." He didn't ask again. The question cost him something, I could see it — the brief shadow that crosses his face when he processes a no about his father — but he is learning to process, learning to accept, learning that love doesn't always look the way you want it to look. He is six and learning things that some adults never learn, and I am sorry that he has to and proud that he can.

The guest list for Thanksgiving: me, Mason, Lily, Brett, and Claire. Carol is going to her sister's. Mom and Dad are staying in Twin Falls (Dad's knees can't handle the drive in November weather). It's a small table. But it's my table, in my house, with my food and my family, and it will be the first Thanksgiving I've hosted as a single woman, and it will be perfect because I am going to make it perfect, not in the Instagram way but in the Dawson way: too much food, real laughter, dishes done together, leftovers for a week.

I made a practice run of the stuffing this week — bread cubes, celery, onion, sage, chicken broth, butter. It's Mom's recipe, the one she's made since before I was born, the one I've watched her make every November for thirty-three years. I tasted it and it tasted right — sage and butter and memory — and I thought: I have this. The cancer is gone. The marriage is over. But the stuffing recipe is intact, and the stuffing recipe is the thing that endures.

I bought a sixteen-pound turkey for five people on purpose, because the leftovers are half the point. After spending a week thawing and brining and basting—after proving to myself that I can do all of it—I want that turkey to carry me through the whole next week. These Turkey Swiss Sloppy Joes are what happens on the Friday after Thanksgiving in my kitchen: shredded turkey, melty Swiss, a sweet and tangy sauce, and two kids who will eat anything on a bun. Leftovers for a week, I said. I meant it.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

3 cups shredded or chopped cooked turkey
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 cup diced yellow onion
1/2 cup diced celery
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup ketchup
2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
Salt and pepper to taste
6 slices Swiss cheese
6 hamburger buns, toasted

Instructions

Sauté the vegetables. Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add onion and celery and cook until softened, about 4–5 minutes. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more.
Build the sauce. Stir in ketchup, Worcestershire sauce, Dijon mustard, brown sugar, apple cider vinegar, and smoked paprika. Bring to a gentle simmer.
Add the turkey. Fold in the shredded turkey and stir until evenly coated. Simmer on medium-low for 10–12 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the mixture thickens and the turkey is heated through. Season with salt and pepper.
Melt the cheese. Lay one slice of Swiss cheese over each toasted bun bottom. Spoon the hot turkey mixture generously over the cheese so it begins to melt. Top with the bun lid.
Serve. Serve immediately with a side of pickles, coleslaw, or leftover cranberry sauce for dipping.

Nutrition (per serving)

Turkey Swiss Sloppy Joes — Because Leftovers Are the Reward You Earned