Arguably, leftovers are one of the great joys of Thanksgiving. Who doesn’t love dry turkey sandwiches, cold mashed potatoes topped with the inimitable brown “jellygravy,” and green bean casserole that defies the logic of physics by actually heating to a temperature somewhere between McDonald’s coffee and liquid magma while the potatoes, who sat nondescript beside them inside the microwave, maintain a 58 degree temperature and the consistency of wet sand. Well my friends, suffer no further, for I am about to share with you my family tradition for kicking the lame leftover blues and feeding a house full of freeloading relatives for the remainder of the weekend on a budget of about $5. I give you…
Turkey Spaghetti
While this dish is surprisingly complex in flavor, it is not at all difficult to make (assuming you have the stirring arms of a lumberjack) and leaves plenty of room for experimentation to tailor to your particular tastes.
Basic Ingredients:
- Leftover turkey bits
- One brick of Velveeta cheese cut into small cubes
- 1 green pepper, chopped
- 1 red pepper, chopped
- 1 onion, chopped
- 1 box of spaghetti
- 1 can of cream of mushroom soup
- 1 can of Rotel tomatoes
Step 1: Begin by taking what remains of that giant bird you just finished devouring and rip it to shreds with the enthusiasm of a lion on the African Savannah — and I’m talking all of it here. Grab those perfectly-carved slices nobody wanted, pinch every ounce of meat you can off the carcass strip the bones the kids left behind after taking two bites, add the sack of organ meat (if you like that kind of stuff), and even scoop out the drippings and debris left in the roasting pan (for flavor). Throw them in a giant stock pot full of water and bring them to a boil. Yes it looks gross, but trust me, you’re only on Step 1 here, and I’ve done this dozens of times.
Step 2: Throw in a box of spaghetti, cook it with the turkey, and drain. You should now have a calendar full of shredded turkey bits, and spaghetti that was cooked in “turkey water.”
Step 3: Add some oil to a skillet and saute up the onion and peppers. This not only makes you look like a fancy chef, but the coloring also adds an air of Christmas to the dish. Yes, that holiday looms on the horizon. If you play your cards right, you’ll still be trying to finish this up then.
Step 4: Combine the onions and peppers with a can of Rotel tomatoes and a can of cream of mushroom soup (because everything has a can cream of mushroom soup in it, right?). Bring to a boil, add Velveeta (the cheese that will not die), and reduce heat to a simmer while the “faux cheese” melts.
Step 5 (optional): This is the fun, experimental part where every year I try to figure out what else might work well in this recipe. My best results were the year I started going through the relish tray: carrots, celery, broccoli and cauliflower florets, olives, etc. Personally, I skip this these days and just throw in the can of black olives that I got up at 6:00 AM and hid from everyone. (We’re olive freaks in my family. Seriously, it’s like an entree some nights.)
Step 6: Once the Velveeta is melted, combine everything back in the original stock pot. Stir until you swear your right arm is going to fall off, then switch to the left arm. You may stop when tears appear.
Serve in a hearty bowl with some garlic toast and prepare to shoot dirty looks at your insane uncle who will maintain against convention that his cold turkey sandwich is somehow superior to this dish.
