Thanksgiving and Christmas Cranberry-Stuffed Turkey Breast

Let’s Talk: Why I Ended Up Making Cranberry-Stuffed Turkey Breast

Okay, so full disclosure—I started stuffing turkey breasts out of pure panic. The first time, I think my oven had a meltdown (it groaned, anyway) and the whole turkey wouldn’t fit right; but I had this beautiful turkey breast and a bag of cranberries staring at me. My cousin Ed, who claims he could burn water, found the rolling part absolutely fascinating, even though his first attempt looked like a game of poultry rugby. Anyway, now it’s a bit of a tradition for both Thanksgiving and Christmas (with the occasional request in April, oddly enough). If you ever want an excuse to use up that half-eaten bag of dried cranberries lurking in your cupboard—hey, this might be it.

Why You’ll Love This, Like Seriously

I make this when I’ve totally run out of energy for wrangling a whole bird, or if I’m serving a smaller crew (just the in-laws, maybe a random neighbor who smells dinner). My family goes nuts for this because the stuffing is all rolled up inside and it looks fancy without being, you know, ACTUALLY fussy. (Well, as long as you don’t drop cranberry bits everywhere like I did the first year.) Also, the leftovers, if there are any, are kind of epic in grilled cheese the next day. I guess if you’re a fan of that sweet-savory-acidic vibe, this is your jam. Plus, it’s way less intimidating than a whole turkey, seriously.

Stuff You’ll Need (and a Few Things You Can fudge)

• 1 large turkey breast (about 1–1.5kg or so): Boneless, skin-on. If you’re stuck, you can do this with chicken breast too, but, different mood.
• About a handful (or 2/3 cup) dried cranberries: I occasionally throw in apricots if I ran out; my grandmother would disown me for that, but it works.
• 3/4 cup breadcrumbs: Panko or homemade, or honestly just smash up some stale bread you’ve got.
• 1 small onion, finely chopped (½ works if it’s a big one)
• 2–3 ribs celery, chopped
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 egg, beaten: For glue. Sometimes I skip it if I forget; doesn’t ruin anything.
• Good handful parsley, chopped: Flat-leaf if you can, or skip entirely if you hate green things.
• 2 tbsp butter (or olive oil): I swap in oil if the butter’s hiding at the back of the fridge.
• ½ cup chicken broth (or water with bouillon cube, totally fine)
• Salt, black pepper, and a little dried thyme or sage (optional)
• Cotton kitchen twine or those little silicone bands (I never find mine, honestly)

My Surprisingly Casual Directions (Let’s Roll!)

1. Butterfly the turkey breast: Lay it skin side down and use a sharp knife to slice horizontally, opening it like a book. If it’s not even, don’t stress—just stick some plastic wrap on top and bash it tenderly with a rolling pin (or, you know, a wine bottle). Get it to about ¾ inch thick. If bits tear off, just squish them back on; nobody can tell later.
2. Make the stuffing: Melt butter in a pan, add the onions and celery, sauté till soft-ish (let’s call that 5 minutes). Garlic goes in here and gets a minute. Remove from heat; add cranberries, breadcrumbs, parsley, beaten egg, and the broth, mixing until it’s just holding together. Salt, pepper, and herbs go in now. This is usually where I take a little taste (hot! careful!), but don’t go overboard or you’ll be short for stuffing.
3. Stuff and roll: Pile stuffing over the flattened breast, leaving a bit of bare edge so it doesn’t ooze out. Roll up from one end, jelly-roll style. If it’s a mess, just smoosh as you go. Tie up with kitchen twine—three or four ties does it. (I’ve used toothpicks when out of twine—works okay, just don’t forget to pull ’em out before serving!)
4. Roast that beauty: Shove it seam side down in a roasting pan (with rack if you’ve got it, or carrots/celery sticks below if you’re improvising), brush the top with oil or more butter. Roast at 180°C/350°F for about 50 minutes to an hour, or until your thermometer screams 72°C/162°F in the thickest part. Tent with foil if it browns too quick. Actually, I find it works better if you let it rest 15 minutes after before slicing—keeps the juices in.

Notes from My (Delightfully) Cluttered Kitchen

• If your stuffing seems dry, splash in more broth. Too wet? Toss some extra crumbs. I eyeball a lot of this, honestly.
• One time, I forgot to tie the roll and stuffing leaked everywhere. No one cared, just scooped it up on the side. Less stress.
• I recommend sneaking a couple spoonfuls of stuffing straight from the pan—chef’s perks. (Just maybe not raw egg bits!)

Variations I’ve Actually Tried (and One I Probably Shouldn’t Have)

• Swapped in chopped cooked apple for cranberries—delicious, but got mushy if it sat too long.
• Added chopped pecans, and once, pistachios—made it festive and extra crunchy.
• I once experimented with blue cheese in the stuffing. Not my finest hour—let’s just say, it was… pungent. Stick with mild cheese or none at all!
• If pressed, you can wrap the roll with thin bacon slices before roasting. Decadent, yes, greasy—also yes.

What If You Don’t Have Half This Equipment?

• No kitchen twine? Use those sturdy toothpicks or skewer sticks (just warn your guests!)
• No roasting rack? Improvise with a bed of thick carrot or celery sticks—I borrowed that trick form Serious Eats’ turkey guide once.
• If you lack a meat thermometer, poke it with a skewer—the juices should run clear (not pink). But, honestly, invest in a basic thermometer; changed my life.

Stashing Leftovers (Though Honestly, That Never Happens Here)

Leftovers go in an airtight container in the fridge, good for two to three days. It reheats pretty well in the microwave, though I splash a little broth over to keep it moist. If you want to freeze, slice it up first—then freeze separated with parchment between slices (easier to grab just a couple for a sandwich later).

How I Love to Serve This (Feel Free to Steal Our Rituals)

Slice thick, drizzle with pan juices (or cheat with store gravy, no shame). We always serve with mashed spuds, something green, and a pile of extra cranberry sauce, because my brother claims there’s never enough. If you’re after a fresh twist, this fresh cranberry sauce recipe is tangy enough to cut through any richness.

If I Had to Give You Pro Tips…

• Seriously, don’t rush the resting step. I once sliced way too soon—dry turkey, sad stuffing, all the regrets.
• I learned to double-check that there are no forgotten toothpicks in the roll. (Biting into wood isn’t festive—ask my cousin.)
• If you get nervous with the rolling, just patch holes with a little extra stuffing. It’s rustic, call it farmhouse-style.

People Actually Ask Me…

Can I prep this the night before?

Yup! Stuff and roll, cover tightly, and keep in the fridge. On second thought, wait to add butter on top till you actually bake it.

Whole turkey or breast?

I prefer the breast for a smaller crowd and less leftovers, but if you want a feast, double (or triple) everything and use a whole bird—messier though, I’ll warn you!

Can I make it spicy?

Oh yes. Sprinkle in chili flakes or a hit of cayenne. My uncle tried hot sauce once—bit wild, but it worked (kinda!)

What sides are non-negotiable?

Mashed potatoes, obviously. And green beans ’cause Mom insists. Sometimes even Yorkshire puddings, which confuses everyone but is always devoured.

Anyway, if you give this a try, definitely let me know how it goes—or if your roll looks like a turkey burrito gone rogue, that’s cool too. Happy holidays from my very imperfect kitchen!