Mashed Potatoes and Gravy

My mother always says at Thanksgiving to make plenty of mashed potatoes because potatoes are cheap and will stretch out your meal if you run short on turkey. My mother's parents were born and raised during the Great Depression, which I think instilled deep and contradictory influences in my mother's psyche. On the one hand, every Thanksgiving we have vats of mashed potatoes and groaning bowls of stuffing. On the other hand, my mother makes sure each grandchild gets a thick cashmere sweater for Christmas. (Buying a toddler a cashmere sweater is generous but wholly irrational.)

To make really good mashed potatoes, you will need a stout pot, a sturdy masher (avoid the flimsy hootless ones), warm cream or whole milk, and plenty of softened unsalted butter. Choose your potatoes wisely. I am a sucker for the floury Carola but Yukon Golds work very well indeed. I reckon on one pound of potatoes for two good eaters -- this rule of thumb will ensure you are equipped with vats of mashed potatoes. Peel and quarter the potatoes, placing the potatoes as you go into a large pot filled with cold salted water. A sharp peeler is essential here. They cost about $2 and you can usually run out and get one at just about any grocery store. About 45 minutes before dinner time, bring the potatoes to a medium rolling boil until the pieces are easily pierced by a fork. If you see the potatoes are starting to fall apart in the water, you've let them go too long.

Drain the potatoes in a colander and then return to the cooking pot. Turn the flame on low and toss the potatoes gently for a few minutes in the dry pan. This extra drying will give your potatoes a nice fluffy texture. First, mash in the butter (about 1/3 of a stick per pound of potatoes). Add the warm cream or milk slowly, and mash a while longer. When the potatoes are the texture you like, add a few pinches of kosher salt and some cranks of fresh black pepper. Stir into the potatoes with a spoon and taste again. Err on the side of slightly under-salting, because your guests may add salt but they can't subtract it. Keep the finished potatoes in their pot with the lid on, and they should still be warm by dinner time.

You'll make the gravy while the turkey is resting and/or being carved. Pour off most of the fat from the roasting pan and discard. Scrape up any pieces of skin that are stuck to the bottom of the pan, or turn the flame on under the roasting pan and crisp up the skin. Add at least a quart or two of homemade poultry stock to the pan and bring to a boil, scraping up the crusty brown bits studding the pan. I thicken my stock with a slurry, which is to say a medium-sized jar (with lid) filled with half flour and half cold water. Shake the mixture vigorously until foamy, and then shake a little more to be sure you won't get lumps. Once you have slurry, stand over the bubbling pan and make little circles in the center of the pan with a slotted spoon. Pour the slurry into the bubbling broth slowly but surely, continuing to stir the slurry into the gravy with circular motions of your spoon. The slurry will tighten up fairly quickly, so let it bubble away to get rid of the floury taste and keep stirring. If the gravy gets too tight, loosen with a little hot water. Once you have the right consistency, season with salt and pepper. Serve the gravy piping hot.