Gravy makes a rare appearance this time of year, but for a sauce with such broad appeal, why isn’t it made more often? The ultimate complement to comfort food, its savory warmth can turn a routine meal into one that people remember.
Cheryl Stair, co-owner of the Art of Eating, an event planning and catering company in Bridgehampton, was thinking about Thanksgiving before everyone else on the South Fork had put away their beach chairs. Together with her business partner and husband, John Kowalenko, and their staff, they will prepare more than 550 orders for Thanksgiving. The caterers earned the “Snail of Approval” from Slow Food East End last year for their focus on locally sourced, sustainable, and seasonal cooking.
What makes a crowd-pleasing gravy? Stair recommends starting with a rich stock. “You’re only as good as your base, which is your stock,” she said. “Vegetable, chicken, turkey, beef, lamb, no matter what it is. If your stock is good, the gravy is going to be good.”
Gravy, by definition, is made from meat juices and a roux to thicken it. Roux is a simple slurry of flour or cornstarch that becomes the magical thickening ingredient. When heated, the gluten strands add body to the gravy. There are endless variations, as gravy can be made from a range of meat drippings other than the familiar turkey. Roast beef, lamb, goose, chicken, or pork will work, too. (A tomato sauce that incorporates roasted meat, sausage, or meatballs is sometimes emphatically called “gravy,” too, but we won’t get into that here.) A reduction of meat juices without the roux would be called just that: a reduction, or an “au jus” or demi-glaze.
The stock and pan drippings should already contain enough flavor so that additional seasoning often isn’t necessary. The gravy won’t compete with the flavors of other dishes but will help them sing. Because the stock is reduced and the pan drippings are often both naturally salty and salted before cooking, it’s key to not oversalt. Wait until the gravy is the desired thickness before adding a final dash. Pepper may be all you need.
Making gravy takes patience for several reasons, and attempting to speed up the process by turning up the heat can leave you with lumpy, burnt glop. The heat thickens the roux to activate the gluten in the flour while giving the gravy its color. Turning the heat too high can burn the flour, and if you don’t stir to keep up with the thickening, it will lead to lumps. Heat too low will not activate the gluten, leading to runny gravy. Aim for “not a boil, but a good simmer,” Stair says. She also recommends fully incorporating the flour or cornstarch in cold water or stock before adding it to the pan so that it can be whisked in more easily and doesn’t turn into inadvertent dumplings. Scrape and whisk constantly all over the roasting pan while steam rises from the thickening gravy. Patience will pay off, and when the gravy sticks to the back of a spoon you should be good to go.
Stirring gravy is an ideal task to hand off to someone who wants to help, as long as they will truly keep on task, while keeping the conversation going in the kitchen. If you’re the sort of cook who likes to do everything ahead of time without any extra elbows around the stove, gravy can certainly be prepared in advance and then reheated over low heat before the meal.
The basic gravy recipe can easily be embellished. Incorporating mushrooms such as shiitake can add a varied flavor. “Sometimes we finish with a little brandy,” Stair notes, “sometimes a little sherry. And then, let it cook out so you’re left with this slight reminiscence of the taste. It just adds a subtle undertone.”
Gravy doesn’t have to be limited to holiday meals; it adds a flourish to a Sunday roast and elevates meatloaf. Anyone who might turn up their nose at the notion of meatloaf may not have had Ina Garten’s legendary meatloaf recipe that is served at the 1770 House with its savory gravy on a chilly winter night.
There’s no such thing as too much gravy. Stair suggests turning leftovers into Thanksgiving-turkey shepherd’s pie with gravy melding the layers. Freeze a container of gravy so you can enjoy it on a chilly February evening when you miss those flavors. Or, maybe you’ll be inspired on a chilly winter evening to make a roast with gravy, to fill your home with the warm aroma of pure coziness.
RECIPE: STAR GRAVY
This wonderfully rich turkey gravy is adapted from a 38-year-old favorite that appeared in Miriam Ungerer’s column in The Star, Long Island Larder, in November 1987. Our staff has been wowing the holiday table with it ever since.
The Day Before
Put all the giblets except the liver in a deep pot, along with any wing tips or turkey bones you can scrounge from the butcher. Add the usual carrot and celery, an onion stuck with two cloves, two bay leaves, thyme (more if it is fresh, less if dried), and crushed garlic and salt and pepper, as desired.
Pour in a pint or half-bottle of red wine and enough water to cover it all with an inch or two to spare. Simmer time is a matter of intuition: In one version of this recipe, Ungerer suggests simmering for three hours, but in another says six. We’ve found we just simmer it up until it is time to go to bed.
Strain the broth and refrigerate it along with the giblets, which you will chop to be added to the gravy the following afternoon.
The Big Day
When the turkey is done and resting on a platter before being carved, pour off most of the fat from the pan, leaving about four tablespoons of it, and set the pan over low heat on the stovetop. Add half of the broth from yesterday to the pan and scrape up the drippings to deglaze. Be vigorous. Add the giblets that have been minced fine.
While you let the gravy simmer gently for a few minutes, make a slurry of cornstarch and water (one part cornstarch, two parts water, for maybe a half a cup), then whisk a bit of this slurry into the pan along with more of the broth. Do this a little at a time, one then the other, checking for the
desired consistency. You’ll want to use up all that good broth, though.
Chances are, you won’t need more salt, if your bird was salted or brined, but check for pepper level as you see fit. You can also stir in some fresh, minced parsley — what Ungerer called “the ultimate fillip for the Perfect Turkey Gravy” — but that’s up to you.