CoalCracker

Trigger Warning: If the idea of stuffing copious amounts of delicious bread up a turkey’s ass  doesn’t sit well with you, this might be a good time to look away. Seriously. If you’ve ever questioned the safety of cooking stuffing inside the turkey, perhaps it’s best to click the back button and move on. I won’t pretend there’s no judgment here—because I’m going to think less of you for living life not knowing how good it could have been. But please, don’t email me to tell me it’s unsafe to cook a turkey with stuffing inside.

Trigger warning #2 – I use the word moist – multiple times in the following text. No apologies.

Every year for Thanksgiving, I take over the kitchen and destroy it. By the time the chaos subsides—figuratively speaking—I’ve created a giant mess, 4 loads of dishes, 11 dozen Pumpkin Muffins, a batch of Pap’s Homemade Bread Stuffing and a few other incidentals. This year was no different: along with the muffins and stuffing, I prepared a Thanksgiving Eve dinner of Chicken Bacon Ranch Salad and whipped up some vegetable dip.

Despite my best efforts to speed things along, it’s a time-consuming process that takes hours of preparation and cooking to get everything done. But, it’s well worth the time invested. The pumpkin muffins and Pap’s homemade stuffing are two recipes I’ve cherished since early in my life, and now I’m going to share them with you. I’ll write about the pumpkin muffins separately, but here I’m going to share Pap’s homemade bread stuffing.

Let’s face it, when it comes to comfort food, stuffing is near the top of the list. If it were any more comforting, it’d come with a blanket and a hug—and maybe that’s why it’s stuck with me, both literally and figuratively, all these years.. As far back as I can remember, Thanksgiving was a significant holiday in my house. We lived in a row home in Ashland, pretty much the heart of the anthracite coal region., and my grandparents lived next door.

I vividly remember being around four or five years old when my sister showed me a “secret passage”—a door that connected one of our downstairs rooms to their house. To my young mind, it was like discovering a portal to another world. I spent a lot of time with my grandparents as a kid—a lot of time. Summers were filled with camping trips to their camper at Knoebels, and we ventured on journeys to Baltimore, New Jersey, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, and even Disney World.

Every Thanksgiving and Christmas, we’d all gather around and feast until we couldn’t eat another bite. You’d know my mom was done when she started sneezing—a quirky little tell that always made us laugh.

After we cleaned up and had some time to digest, the adults would break out the cards, and sometimes us kids would join in. The games of choice were either Tripoli or Canasta, and we’d spend hours playing and enjoying each other’s company.

There are countless memories tied to the holidays from my childhood, but the aroma that filled the house—a turkey stuffed to the brim, roasting for hours—is something I’ll never forget. Thanks to Pap’s Homemade Bread Stuffing recipe, I’m able to bring that memory to life every year when Thanksgiving rolls around.

My grandfather, PapPap – or just Pap, was the kind of man who seemed capable of anything. I remember seeing pictures of him as a boy, coming home from working in the mines. Things were different in the coal region back then. As a young man, he joined the Air Force and served in WWII. He never really talked much about his time in the military, but you could tell it had a profound impact on him.

Later in life, he wore many hats, but they all revolved around his expertise. He was an electrician and ran his own business wiring homes and installing fire alarms, smoke detectors, and security systems. The man hustled and worked hard to provide. I wish I’d had more time to get to know him better as I grew older, but sadly, he passed away when I was around 13. All that’s left now are the memories.

One of those cherished memories is Pap’s Homemade Bread Stuffing. My mom carried on the tradition of making it after he passed, but before then Pap would make the stuffing every year and there was one secret ingredient that just gave it that little push to greatness. A few years after my grandfather passed, I started working at a local restaurant that hosted a Thanksgiving buffet. The number of turkeys we cooked each year, along with the trays upon trays of stuffing, was astounding.  Along with that, Sundays often featured turkey and stuffing as dinner specials, so we were constantly prepping it.

 It was good stuffing, but it wasn’t Pap’s Stuffing. 

I worked at the restaurant—first at Shearn’s Too, and later at Henry’s under a different owner—well into my early twenties. During those years, I became well-acquainted with the stuffing recipe, along with many other dishes that became second nature to me. The kitchen was always a lively place; we shared laughs, swapped stories, and worked hard to make sure everything went smoothly. There were always bumps along the way, but that’s just life. Those were formative years for me, both personally and professionally. I haven’t seen most of those folks in many years, but I often think back fondly on those times and the people who made them special. I hope they are all doing well.

As the years went by, I started helping my mom get dinner ready. I still don’t know how she managed to pull it all off in that small kitchen, but she did, year after year. Before long, the stuffing became my responsibility. Having made it at work, I naturally took over the role. I never seemed to get it quite as good as Pap’s, though—until one year when my mom shared the secret ingredient with me. She told me that every time Pap made the stuffing, he would pour a can of beer into it. I’ve been making it that way ever since.

Over twenty years and just as many Thanksgivings later, whether we hosted one or both of our families or just enjoyed Thanksgiving dinner with the kids, we would never consider not stuffing our turkey. In fact, when my in-laws would come to our house for Thanksgiving, we’d make a separate, unstuffed turkey for my mother-in-law because she has issues with gluten. And no, I’m not making gluten-free stuffing—so get that thought out of your head right now! 

So, anyway, on to the recipe – truth be told – while it will always be Pap’s Homemade Bread Stuffing to me, I’ve added and changed things over the years and made it my own. But the beer is still a staple. I’ve incorporated a few elements from the restaurant version, some from Pap’s original recipe, and others I’ve picked up by experimenting. The recipe is a living, evolving creation with no strict measurements or hard-and-fast rules—so I guess, technically, it’s more of a guideline than a recipe. But I’ll lay out my approach here, and you can make it your own.

Pap’s Homemade Bread Stuffing Recipe

Ingredients for a medium batch (enough to stuff a 16–20 lb turkey, front and back):

• 4 loaves of white bread: Nothing fancy—store-bought sandwich bread works just fine.
• 1 loaf of rye bread: Your preference. Sometimes I use soft, seedless rye; other times, Russian or Jewish rye. One year, my wife brought home a pumpernickel and rye mix—it was a good year.
• Additional breads (optional): Feel free to experiment. This year, we had a few brioche buns nearing expiration, so I tossed them in.

• 6–8 onions: I use a mix of yellow and sweet onions, depending on what we have on hand.
• 1 bunch of celery
• Chicken broth – approximately 24 oz.
• 17 eggs
• 2 cups of milk: I use half-and-half and often end up using more than 2 cups, but it’s a good starting point.
• 1 lb of butter: Don’t skimp here. The butter, along with the other liquids, helps keep the turkey extra moist and flavorful as it cooks.
• Beer: Use whatever you like. One year, I used Guinness because it was all I had in the fridge. Lately, I’ve been using Modelo Especial. I had a few dry years where I skipped the beer altogether, and it just wasn’t the same.
• Spices: Thyme, crushed rosemary or rosemary leaves (or both), rubbed sage, ground sage, poultry seasoning, salt, and white pepper. I don’t have exact measurements for these—really, none. I just load them in and wing it. Each batch is different from the last, but over time you’ll find that the aroma tells you when it’s just right, and you won’t need anything else. If I had to guess at the measurements, they’d probably be:

• 4 tbsp thyme
• 3 tbsp rosemary
• 2 tbsp rubbed sage
• 2 tbsp ground sage
• 2 tbsp poultry seasoning
• 2 tsp salt
• A sprinkle of white pepper

Instructions:

1. Start with the Onions and Celery:
   • Dice up your onions and celery—doesn’t have to be perfect.
   • Toss them into a big sauté pan or saucepan with that whole pound of butter. Yep, the entire pound—don’t hold back now.
   • Cook everything over low heat until the onions and celery are nice and soft, soaking up all that buttery goodness.
   • While it’s cooking, add your spices. If the aroma isn’t making you wish it was already dinnertime, sprinkle in some more until it does.
   • Pour in the chicken broth and let it all simmer together for a while – how long is a while, you say? Well, it’s right between not enough and too long. If you need something more definitive than that, let it simmer for about 30 – 40 minutes.
   • About halfway through the simmer, crack open a beer (one for the stuffing, maybe one for you) and pour it into the mix—that’s Pap’s secret touch.
   • Once it’s all cooked down, take it off the heat and let it cool for about an hour. You’ll be mixing it by hand later, so you don’t want it scalding hot.

2. Tear Up the Bread:
   • While the pot full of deliciousness is cooling, start ripping up the bread into bite-sized pieces. No need to be precise—just tear it up and toss it into a large mixing container. I usually use half of the turkey roaster; it’s big enough and saves on dishes.
   • Mix the white and rye bread pieces together so they’re evenly evenly distributed.
3. Bring It All Together:
   • Once the onion and celery mixture has cooled enough to handle, it’s time to get your hands dirty.
   • Crack all 17 eggs over the bread chunks, spreading them out so they’re not all in one spot.
   • Pour the milk over the bread and eggs.
   • Roll up your sleeves and mix it all together with your hands until the bread is semi-moist and the eggs and milk are well combined.
   • Now pour that cooled, seasoned onion and celery mix over the bread.
   • Mix everything thoroughly. Spend some time on this—make sure there’s no dry bread hiding at the bottom. Squeeze it, mash it, really get in there.
   • By the time you’re done, you should have a big mass of deliciousness that will be oozing out of the turkey tomorrow.
4. Let It Rest Overnight:
   • Transfer the stuffing into a large container and pop it in the fridge overnight. This lets all the flavors get to know each other.
5. Stuff That Turkey:
   • The next morning, your stuffing is ready to go. While this post is all about Thanksgiving and stuffing the turkey, I should mention that my wife is the one who handles cooking the turkey itself. Perhaps I can persuade her to share some of her secrets in another post. 
   • For those of you still concerned about cooking stuffing inside the turkey, here’s a tip: use an oven thermometer and insert it into the center of the stuffing to make sure it reaches at least 165°F.

There you have it—Pap’s Homemade Bread Stuffing. It’s a bit of work, sure, but when that aroma fills the house and everyone gathers around the table, you’ll know it was worth every minute. 

Enjoy!

This recipe is more than just food; it’s a legacy. It’s about family, memories, and the comforting taste of home. I invite you to make it a part of your family’s tradition, tweaking and adapting it as you see fit. After all, the best recipes are the ones that evolve with us over time.

This stuffing isn’t just a side dish; it’s a centerpiece of family tradition, infused with memories and love. Whether you stick to the recipe or add your own twists, I hope it brings as much joy to your table as it has to mine.

Happy Thanksgiving!