Poultry

Crunchy, salty, pretzel-coated chicken cutlets are lightened up with creamy cauliflower purée and arugula salad for a perfect weeknight meal.

Rotisserie chicken and store-bought puff pastry make quick work of this comforting kale- and squash-stuffed pot pie.

A beautifully browned bird and seasonal vegetables cook in a single skillet for an effortless dinner. Swap in carrots, quartered onions, or tiny potatoes—anything goes.

This warming chowder is a fantastic way to use leftover turkey (and works great with rotisserie chicken, too.) Smoky bacon, earthy cumin, and mild green chiles add tons of flavor to this hearty soup.

These zesty chicken fingers get their flavor from a tangy buttermilk marinade and a breading spiked with smoked paprika.

Spatchcocking your turkey significantly cuts the roasting time, and it's easy to do—just take out the backbone and flatten the bird. If you're nervous about doing it yourself, just ask a butcher at the meat counter to handle it for you.

A grilled split turkey, golden brown as it comes from the parrilla, is one of my favorite dishes. Salt and pepper are all it needs. Such a simple preparation wants an equally uncomplicated but flavorful side dish. Chicory, which I learned to love when I worked in Italy as a young man, does the trick for me every time. Brushed with olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, and grilled to crispness, it is as good as the turkey that it graces. If you are lucky enough to have acquired some chanterelles or other wild mushrooms to sauté, they make the crowning touch. Their color is like the caramelized crust of the chicken. I butterfly my turkeys differently than most butchers: I split them through the breastbone instead of the back, leaving the backbone in instead of discarding it. I think you get a juicier turkey this way, and an extra fun bone to pick.

Smoking a whole turkey is little more work than roasting a bird, but it infuses the meat with a rich, woodsy flavor. All it requires is setting up a grill. Once that's done, the turkey's good to go—all it needs is a simple glaze made from hot-pepper jelly. The final glaze caramelizes on the skin and adds a sweet and sour heat to the smoky turkey.

Chef Sean Brock created this dish using quail, but the technique pairs equally well with bone-in turkey breast, creating a surprisingly juicy version of a much-maligned cut. Searing a turkey breast on the stovetop crisps the skin beautifully, while basting with thyme- and garlic-scented duck fat enriches the lean meat. Green onions stand in for the green garlic for a silky, fresh sauce that's a welcome departure from classic gravy. Be sure to use homemade vegetable stock or a clear canned stock to preserve the brilliant green color. You can find duck fat from many gourmet shops, or online from D'Artagnan.

Beloved for a reason, this bird is brined and then air-dried in the refrigerator for the crispiest, most flavorsome turkey skin ever.

I've worked on my fried chicken for many years, researching every recipe that I could lay my hands on, from early antebellum instructions to the Kentucky Colonel's secret technique. This recipe uses five fats, and each one contributes to the flavor of the result. To do the chicken right, you need an old black cast-iron skillet with a lid. Sure, you can make it in a deep fryer (like we do at the restaurant), but I prefer the old-fashioned way, which is nearly impossible to pull off in a restaurant. The skillets take up so much stove space that you can't make more than ten orders at a time. So this isn't the fried chicken you're going to eat at Husk. This is the way grandmas cook fried chicken in the South, and it's the way everyone should be making fried chicken at home. This recipe takes a lot of time and attention, way more than most conventional approaches (the chicken must be brined for 12 hours, so plan ahead). But it's good. Be sure to ask your butcher for the chicken skins to render for fat and to save the cooking fat, which makes mighty fine gravy. I've thrown that recipe in here too, to complete the meal just like my grandma would have.

Steaming might seem a surprising way to start cooking a turkey, but the payoff is real: The extra step makes the bird extra-juicy, and cuts down on the overall cooking time.