and put the goose back on its wire rack in the largest possible roasting pan and place in the oven.
Roast for 30 minutes, then turn the temperature down to 350°F. Cook the goose for a further 2½ hours or so. Don’t baste—you want the fat to run off the goose, the more the better—but do remember to remove fat regularly during the goose’s cooking or you might have a messy and dangerous accident.
Make the gravy while the goose is cooking. Fry the bacon in 2 tablespoons of the goose fat in a heavy-bottomed pan until crisp and brown. Add the neck and gizzard and cook until well colored, then do the same with the vegetables. Pour off any excess fat and add the Calvados and Madeira (I’d also be happy using my usual Marsala here). Bring to the boil and reduce until syrupy. Pour in the chicken stock and red currant jelly and simmer for 30 minutes. Strain through a fine sieve into a clean saucepan. Allow to settle and, with some paper towels, lift off any fat that is floating on the surface. Whisk in the arrowroot and bring the gravy back to a simmer until clear and slightly thickened. Make sure you don’t let it boil or the arrowroot can break down and thin the gravy. Keep warm. Just putting the lid on a good saucepan should do this, or use a heat diffuser and keep the flame low.
When your goose is cooked—the drumstick will be soft when squeezed—remove it from the oven and let it rest for 15 minutes or so before carving. Simon Hopkinson suggests serving some extra potatoes (in addition to the potato stuffing—now you see why I trust him on portion size), fried with garlic in some of the goose fat you’ve collected and sprinkled with parsley, and some big bunches of watercress. You certainly don’t need sophisticated vegetables—frozen peas, good and buttery, with some blanched and buttered snow peas stirred in would be good.
After eating the goose, I’d just make sure there were big bowls of lychees, clementines, and some nuts on the table.
AN ENGLISH CHRISTMAS LUNCH
I think for Christmas lunch it has to be turkey; furthermore, this turkey has to be fresh, free-range turkey. A good bird. My mother did a splendid job, though, with a lesser bird, by soaking some clean reusable kitchen wipes in melted butter, then bandaging the turkey’s breast with them for the first part of the roasting, first on one side, then on the other. But a good turkey, carefully cooked, removes instantly all association with dryness forever.
Though traditional for British Christmas lunch, there is no reason, of course, why this recipe can’t be drafted to fit in with Thanksgiving plans. If serving it for a Christmas lunch, however, forgo any starters. I can’t see the point of blunting your appetite before you even get to the main event.
THE TURKEY
The turkey needs to be stuffed, and I should, in all honesty, own that I get my butcher, Mr. Lidgate, to do that for me. I couldn’t improve on his recipes, and so I’ve got them for you—one for chestnut stuffing, the other for cranberry and orange. This is the perfect pair—the one sweet and mealy, the other sharp and fruited; the quantities in both are enough to stuff, one at each end, a 12–14 pound bird, with some stuffing left over to cook in a separate dish; adjust quantities accordingly for larger or smaller birds, and remember—if you don’t make extra stuffing, you can run out before second helpings, which is a grave error.
LIDGATE’S CHESTNUT STUFFING
½ pound shallots, minced
5 tablespoons unsalted butter
¼ pound piece slab bacon, chopped (any rind removed and reserved for making the gravy, page 461 )
2 eggs
1 can (16 ounces) unsweetened chestnut purée
8 ounces canned whole chestnuts, roughly chopped
2 cups fresh bread crumbs (see page 22 )
1 bunch parsley, chopped
salt and freshly milled black pepper
whole nutmeg
Cook the shallots in the butter, melted in a heavy-bottomed frying pan, with the bacon for about 10 minutes on a lowish heat or until soft
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