Thanksgiving Wrap-Up: Chicken Liver Stuffing

As is now a Ben Cooks Everything tradition, here’s a late recap of what happened over Thanksgiving, well after everyone’s moved on.

Much has been made of stuffing around here. This year I finally perfected my own recipe, building from Bittman’s, which builds on James Beard’s. But mine never could have come together without the help of Maggie Hoffman, of Serious Eats and Pithy & Cleaver fame. See, I wanted to incorporate chicken liver into my stuffing. I made a number of test batches, once of which had diced livers in it as Bittman suggests in a variation on the stuffing recipe in How to Cook Everything. The thing is, even though I diced the liver finely, it was still overbearing when you got a chunk of it. Even for me, an avid liver lover, it was too much. What Maggie suggested is what I ended up doing: sautee the livers whole with the onions and celery, then remove, puree with some stock, and add this along with the rest of the stock in the recipe. You get a hearty, rich liver flavor without ever biting down on a big chunk, and people who claim not to like liver are none the wiser.

It’s a peculiar feeling, but a nice one, knowing you’ve just tricked your whole family into eating liver.

What else? I also made the Red Beans Cooked Orange from the Food Matters Cookbook, where the beans are cooked with grated pumpkin. It turns out brown more than orange, but it’s still delicious. In addition to that I brought the Potato Leek Soup, my go-to ultra simple recipe, and Roasted Root Vegetables (jerusalem artichokes, japanese sweet potatoes, carrots and shallots with plenty of olive oil, salt, pepper and fresh rosemary) from the greenmarket.

And my mom brought the most adorable table decorations I’ve ever seen–I kept expecting them to start singing like Muppets (they didn’t).

“Liver? What Liver?” Stuffing

I cook my stuffing outside the bird—if you want to cook this inside the bird, just use a bit less liquid than you think you need and stuff it in the cavity before roasting.

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 stick butter (1/4 lb.)
1 lb. or more loose turkey sausage (note: DiPaola Farms turkey sausage from the Greenmarket is the best, worth seeking out; any type of sausage will work, though)
2 large onions, chopped
1 head celery, chopped
1-2 cloves minced garlic (optional)
2-3 chicken livers
6 to 8 cups fresh breadcrumbs or cubed bread
2-3 cups stock or water, plus more as needed
1 tablespoon minced fresh sage
1 tablespoon minced fresh tarragon
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Heat the olive oil in a large, deep skillet or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the turkey sausage and cook until browned, breaking up with the back of a spoon or spatula as it cooks (if using pork sausage, you probably won’t need to add the oil). Remove and set aside.

Add the butter to the pan. When melted, add the onion, celery and garlic if using and cook, stirring, until softened, about 5 minutes. Be careful not to brown the vegetables too much (although if you do brown them, it’s not the end of the world). Add the chicken livers and cook, stirring, until the livers are cooked through.

Turn the heat to low. Remove the livers and puree along with 1/4 cup or so of the stock (food processor, blender, or immersion blender will all work fine here). Set aside.

Add the breadcrumbs, sage, and tarragon to the sauteed vegetables and stir to mix. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Add the liver mixture and a cup of the stock, distributing as evenly as possible. If it seems dry, and it probably will, add more stock until it’s nice and moist. I like mine pretty moist. How much liquid to add depends on your personal preference and how moist the bread was to begin with, so use your judgment, but remember: it will dry a bit as it bakes in the oven, and a too-wet stuffing is better than a too-dry stuffing. Taste and adjust seasoning. (At this point you can refrigerate the whole thing for a day or two and just bake it off when your guests arrive)

Transfer to an ovenproof baking dish and bake at 350F-400F for about 45 minutes, or until you reach desired crispiness.