TiT, Part VIII: Leftovers

If you're joining me late, you may have missed the bit back in Part II of Thanksgiving in Thailand where I pretentiously claimed that I would be using every scrap of forty-dollar turkey breast. It's about a month after purchase, and so far I've been true to that oath.

One of the first things we made from our turkey by-products was a simple Thai soup called dtom juet (plain soup). Our version would be called dtom juet gai nguang (plain turkey soup), gai nguang apparently meaning "big-ass chicken" in Thai. I've mentioned dtom juet before as an excellent accompaniment to spicy coconut milk curries or any other rich and fiery Thai dish; its incredible similarity to a Hawaiian dish - chicken long-rice - makes me think that they're both offshoots of a primal Chinese preparation. Both of these are basically clear broth with mushrooms, tofu skin (sometimes called bean sheets) and rice or bean thread noodles and herbs. Dao used half of the turkey stock as a base for one the most delicious versions of dtom juet I've ever had.

For our belated Thanksgiving feast, we were able to eat only a small portion of the roasted meat. The rest we stuck in the fridge and used for various meals throughout the next week. One night I used the leftover gravy, mashed potatoes and green bean casserole - along with some fresh veggies and a third of the remaining turkey meat - to make a freaky yet yummy version of cottage pie*. A couple mornings later Dao cubed up some turkey and added it to the fried rice she made for breakfast. Finally we made turkey salad sandwiches with lime and chilies, which added a distinctive Thai accent ... so I guess maybe it should be pronounced "san-weet". If we stopped there, we could count five full meals for two people (and more if we counted the leftovers of the leftovers), or about $4 of turkey per serving.

Oh, but we're not done yet, not by a long shot.

This past New Year's weekend we thawed out the turkey scraps - mostly extra skin, but a good solid cup and a half of chopped turkey meat as well. I separated the skin and meat. For New Year's breakfast we had pad gra pao gai nguang kai dao rad kao, or turkey stir-fried with holy basil and served with a fried egg over rice. Despite the fact that I overcooked the turkey a bit on this first attempt, Dao gave it the good-enough thumb's up.

Neither did the skin go to waste. When I lived in Chiang Mai, one of my favorite snacks was kaep muu gap namprik num, or pork rinds with spicy roasted eggplant dip. My brother Dan made a competent version of namprik num over the summer; in fact, it was superior to any of the ones produced in Bangkok that I've tried. I now understand why pork rinds and namprik num are among the top items sold at souvenir stands in Chiang Mai - there truly is something special about how they make it in the North, so much so that central Thais want their friends to bring it back from vacation. At any rate, occasionally I will eat my namprik num with chicken rinds instead of pork rinds, and I love them both equally. So I got to thinking, Why the hell not try some turkey rinds while I'm at it?

Yesterday I cut the leftover turkey skins into strips (along with some chicken skins from a recent project) and roasted them in the oven until all the fat had rendered out. They turned out golden brown and light and crispy, exactly like fried animal skin should be. A few hours later I had my first batch of homemade namprik num, which I admit was not quite right but was still a hell of a lot better than the pale imitations the Bangkokians have been pawning off on me so far.

Now all that's left is a quart of turkey stock and a whole boneless breast. The stock will be converted into soup soon enough. I'm still not sure what to do with the meat, but I'm considering a crazy idea. Bear with me.

The Isaan region in the northeast of Thailand is historically affiliated with Lao culture at least as much if not more than it is with central Thai culture. Isaan food represents the Southeast Asian equivalent of peasant or soul food, as opposed to the sometimes pretentious Chinese-influenced cuisine of the areas closer to courtly power or of those farther to the north. Isaan gai yang (grilled chicken) is a staple of street vendors all over Thailand and Lao, and the best versions (which are scrupulously marinated overnight before grilling) are as tasty as any chicken you've ever put in your mouth. The notion of roasting some turkey in the style of Isaan gai yaang seems irresistible ... to be continued.

* Suggestions on an appropriate and catchy name for cottage or shepherd's pie using turkey would be much appreciated.