Everyone seems to have leftover-Thanksgiving-traditions - and this is the one I grew up with. Sure, there were sandwiches, and reheated stuffing - but turkey noodle soup is the leftover I dreamed about. I remember roasting a turkey my freshman year in college for fun with a few friends, and being most excited about the prospect of next-day soup. This recipe's for Robert, who helped us eat some of this year's bounty.
Much like the danger tart, this recipe is more method than precision. It's key to be flexible when you're cooking. Remember, you usually do this when you're still exhausted from The Big Meal. It should take around 45 minutes, start to finish.
First things first: When you're done carving the turkey and you're washing up dishes, make some turkey stock. Get the stuff out of the cavity of the bird, get rid of any seriously burnt-up edges, and make a basic poultry stock. Strain, defat, and store for your soup - or make the soup on the spot!
If your stock is chilled, ladle it into a pot and get it heating. A little bit of reduction will only make it richer, so go ahead and turn up the heat. If you are the sort who likes onions (or still has some sliced leeks lying around from mise-en-place, by all means start by cooking them in a little olive oil, and then add the stock when they're caramelized.)
Noodle things next: You'll be making rough-cut, rustic, hand-rolled egg noodles. I grew up using this recipe, which isn't that different than the one I use now. Sometimes I throw in freshly ground pepper or chopped herbs or dried herbs with the flour. Sometimes I just leave them plain.
Root around in the crisper or your herb garden. Any variety of fresh herbs around? Wash 'em, pluck 'em, chop 'em, and set them aside while your pasta dough is resting and your stock is boiling. If you have any celery, you can dice that into small pieces.
Pull off a raquetball-sized hunk of dough. Roll it out to around a quarter-inch thick. Slice it into diamondey shaped noodles, around 2 inches long and 3/4 of an inch wide. Brush off most of the flour, and throw them into the boiling stock. as you're done slicing them. (I like to use a pizza cutter to slice my noodles.) Irregularity of noodles is part of the charm. Keep rolling out and slicing noodles, adding them to your soup as you go. The bit of flour that comes along for the ride will thicken the soup just a tad. If you had some celery, throw it in with your first batch of noodles.
After you add the final batch of noodles, let them cook at a simmer for 5-7 minutes. Taste a noodle around minute four. Pick a thick one. If it's still white and pasty in the middle, give it a little longer. When done, your noodles will be a uniform beige when you bite through them, but still have a chewey (not pasty!) mouthfeel. When the noodles are done, toss in any fresh herbs you've preapred. If you have any roasted garlic around, stir in a spoonful.
Ladle your soup into bowls, top with a freshly grated nutty hard cheese (we like parmigian) and a generous grind of black pepper. If you must add something green, I recommend another salad.
Welcome to a Blink (and Borogove!) family tradition.Posted by shock on December 09, 2004 | TrackBack