Mirepoix! Pour moi?

Dad realized there was a turkey in the freezer. We will most definitely not be in CT for Thanksgiving, so this year the beloved holiday comes a month early. I'm only sad that Leslie isn't here to complete the family meal. She's got the movers as you'll see from the previous post (and I won't get started on my own guilt in not being able to be there right now).

Dad is an expert turkey roaster. In spite of all the fancy versions of the ubiquitous holiday centerpiece out there, my father's is among the best ever (though Leslie made one truly amazing bird last year adapted from a Tom Colicchio recipe). When I was young, Dad would (half) kid that I needed to stand at the window with a shotgun to ensure that no one would steal the recipe.

Needless to say, I'm looking forward to tonight's meal. My contribution? Giblet gravy. As you'll see from the picture below, I'm about to simmer the browned giblets in water for quite a while, but am reserving the liver for the end so it does not overcook or disintegrate into gravy oblivion.

Braised lamb shanks, roasted turkey, giblet gravy - it's a mirepoix kind of hurricane.