Wild turkeys are less understood by the average sportsman or even naturalist than any other of our game birds. It is common to read of the acute olfactory powers of the turkey; that he scents the hunter at one hundred to three hundred yards; the truth is it must be a pungent odor to have a turkey detect it at ten paces.
[CHAPTER XVI]
THE SECRET OF COOKING THE TURKEY
Of matters with which the average sportsman has to do, there is none so little understood as that of cooking game, and especially the turkey. Thousands of sportsmen go into the hunting camp expecting to play the rôle of cook without the knowledge of the simplest requirements and as a consequence are in perpetual trouble and disappointment on account of the blunders that are the inevitable results of lack of information. In the solitude of the forest the hunter should not be at loss for methods of cooking even if he has but a frying-pan; a log for a table; his plate, a section of bark or large leaf.
The turkey is supposed to be a bird of dry meat, but this is so only when all juices are boiled or baked out of it. The usual manner in which turkeys are cooked is by roasting or baking. If the turkey is an old one, the first process is to parboil until the flesh is tender; then it is stuffed with sundry things, such as bread-crumbs, oysters, shrimp, shallots, onions, garlic, truffles, red and black pepper, wine and celery to destroy the natural flavor of the bird. It is a mistake to disguise the rich, delicate flavor of turkey meat with the odor of fish, but it is done and called roast turkey.
If the turkey is a young one, cook it in the way usual to stove-baking, after first filling its cavity with a suitable dressing of bread-crumbs, pepper, salt, and onions chopped fine, moistened with fresh country butter. This is the best dressing that can be made, and will detract nothing from the flavor of the bird nor add to it. If an old turkey, parboil it until the flesh is quite tender, then stuff and bake.
In the forest camp I neither bake nor roast the turkey. Imagine a gobbler dressed and lying on a log or piece of bark beside you. Take a sharp knife, run the blade down alongside the keel bone, removing the flesh from one end of that bone to the other. By this process each half breast can be taken off in two pieces. Lay this slab of white meat skin side down, then begin at the thick end and cut off steaks, transversely, one half inch thick, until all the slab is cut. Now sprinkle with salt and pepper and pile the steaks up together; thus the salt will quickly penetrate. Do not salt any more than you want for one meal; the meat would be ruined if allowed to stand over for the next meal before cooking. Just as soon as the salt dissolves and the juice begins to flow, spread out the steaks in a pan, sprinkle dry flour lightly on both sides evenly, taking care to do this right, or you will get the flour on too thick. Give the pan a shake and the flour will adjust itself. This flour at once mixes with the juices of the meat, forming a crust around the steak, like batter. Have the frying-pan on the fire with plenty of grease, and sizzling hot so the steak will fry the moment it touches the hot grease. Put the steaks in until the bottom of the pan is covered, but never have one steak lap another. If the grease is quite hot the steak will soon brown, and when brown on one side, turn, and the moment it is brown on both sides take out of the pan. By this method you retain almost every particle of the juice of the meat, and at the same time it is brown and crisp, and will nearly melt in the mouth. The flour around the steak does not only prevent the escape of the juice, but also prevents any grease penetrating the meat. If you like gravy, have the frying-pan hot and about a teaspoonful of the grease in which the meat was fried left in it; take a half pint of cold water and pour into the pan. Let this boil about five minutes, when you will have a rich, brown gravy, which season with salt and pepper and pour hot over the steak. You don't want a thing else to eat except some good bread and a cup of creole coffee. Having eaten turkey thus cooked you would not care for baked or roast turkey again.
The bony portions of your turkey may be cut up at the joints, and all available put into a pot or saucepan having a lid, with a few slices of pork or bacon for seasoning, or fresh butter. No matter how fat any game is a little pork improves it. Put in a pod or two of red pepper and add a little water; let this boil and simmer until quite done. I am giving directions now for making a stew. For the thickening, take an onion or two and cut into small pieces, a pod of red pepper broken up, a tablespoonful of flour sifted, and some salt. Put all into a pan and pour in a cup of cold water, stir until the lumps of the flour disappear, then put the mixture into the pot with the turkey. Stir occasionally until it boils, and if there is not sufficient gravy in the vessel where the stew is cooking, add more water. Boil thirty minutes, then serve. In this stew you get the finest and most wholesome dish imaginable, and at very little expense and trouble.
There are many who can prepare food but never understand the reasons for doing things. Not one in a hundred knows why meal, flour, or cracker-crumbs are put on fish or meat while frying. They tell you it helps to brown the flesh; it does no such thing, but prevents browning while the meat is being cooked. Leave off the flour or meal, and by the time the meat is cooked it will be dry and hard as pine bark and as indigestible. When fish is rolled in flour or meal, the fish is not browned, but the covering is.