Chef Ben Says: Grill Your Turkey

As long as I can remember, my family's Thanksgiving turkey has always been the same. How is it possible that a tradition in poultry can last 45 years? Because it's utterly perfect. Because once you've sampled this succulent, sweet, lightly smoky, rich, mahogany-colored Norman Rockwell styled flavor bomb, you need look no further.

You'll start by purchasing the finest free range, organic, free trade, antibiotic free, happy, well adjusted, handsomely groomed bird you can find. It will come from a farm. It will be worth the extra running around, and the expense. We get ours here.

The size of the bird is totally up to you. Ours is huge. Massive, in fact. As long as you plan on approximately a pound per person, you'll be good. That might sound like a lot, but that will allow for some leftovers. You will want leftovers. We actually get 1-2 pounds per person, to avoid the family splitting into tribal factions, waving their battle colors in attempts to stake their claim on paltry shreds of the most magnificent bird. That almost never happens any more.

There is no question that the tried and true Weber Kettle grill is the king of Turkey cookers. It's reasonably priced, lightweight, and provides a perfect convection environment. Using the indirect method (and those fancy Weber charcoal baskets if you have them), get the grill rip roaring hot with the vents wide open. We even like to line up coals like little soldiers at the front and rear of the bird, for extra even cooking.

Loosely stuff the body and head cavities with your dressing of choice (I'll provide our family's recipe in a future post). Apply a liberal salting inside and out, and a thin coat of vegetable oil to the skin. Truss to your liking, pop a cold one, and move outside.

You'll want to place the turkey in the middle of the rack, with a drip pan fitted in-between your charcoal piles below. Pop the lid on and let it sing. No peeking for a full hour. This is where you nap.

This Pteradactyl is so huge, in fact, that you can see where the lid of the grill was touching the top of the bird. This is only a concern because it was causing a poor seal. Here's how we fixed it.

This rock is holding the lid down. Can you smell what the rock is cooking? (obligatory)

Here we are at 2 hours. Halfway for this bohemoth. We add some fresh coals all the way around pop another cold one. Total cooking time with strong coals and vents wide open is 9 minutes per pound. At 27.75 pounds, this is going to require a total of 4 hours 9 minutes cooking time.

As the bird nears the finish line, we like to glaze. This year, I mixed a cup of currant jelly with a cup of orange marmalade, hit it with a couple of shots of bourbon, and a couple of heavy dashes each of bitters and worcestershire. I call it the "old-fashioned" glaze. It's yummy. When you put it on it looks like this:

I let it cook 20 more minutes to thicken up the glaze, then use that to stick on your Norman Rockwell fruit (thin orange and cherry slices). The end product looks something like this:

After a 45 minute rest, the residual moisture in this bird is sufficient to fill a kiddie-pool. The subtle smokieness mixes with the sweet glaze to create flavors heretofore not found in giant turkeys. It is the quintessential thanksgiving experience, by all means, grill your turkey!

A special thank you to my family without which there would be no occasion to create such a masterpiece. Of particular mention my late Father, who rung in the turkey worship 45 years ago, and my brother Brad, for honoring his memory year after year.

Cheers,

Chef Ben