So, About This Turkey and Biscuits Casserole...

Okay, so let me just start by saying this is not an exact science kind of recipe. The first time I made Turkey and Biscuits Casserole with Lemon and Dill, it was the day after Thanksgiving, and I was jazzed to find a way to use up leftover turkey that didn’t feel like eating déjà vu sandwiches. My brother barged in midway, sniffed the kitchen, and loudly said, “Why does it smell like Grandma’s house in here?” (which, honestly, I’ll take as a high compliment). Anyway—if you like comfort food that tastes like a hug and has enough lemon to wake up your nap-needing relatives, you’re in the right place.

I should probably admit: one time I used way too much dill and someone (not naming names, but you know who you are) claimed the whole house smelled like “a garden center.” Got it right the next time though. And it’s become a winter staple—I mean, who doesn’t like fluffy biscuits and creamy filling?

Why You’ll Love This Messy, Bright Casserole

I make this when I want to feed a crowd and not worry about a fancy presentation. My family goes a bit wild for it—my niece once tried to pick out all the biscuits for herself, sly as a fox. There’s something about the lemon and dill that actually lightens it up (so you don’t feel like you ate a brick). Also, this is the only turkey dinner where my brother-in-law hasn’t asked “Where’s the gravy?”

Plus, maybe not the first time I made it, but now I can throw it together with whatever’s lurking in my fridge. (Have a random carrot or a lone celery stalk? Toss it in—no one will notice!) Honestly, I had to overcome my frustration with biscuit dough sticking to my hands, but once I started using a spoon to plop it on, life got a lot simpler. If only all problems were solved so easy.

Gather Your Ingredients (Or Use What’s on Hand)

About 3 cups cooked turkey breast or thigh, shredded or cubed (I’ve used rotisserie chicken when turkey’s gone MIA; works fine—promise)
1 onion, chopped (my grandma insisted on yellow, but a sweet onion’s just as good)
2 sticks celery, chopped (if you’re out, leave it! No one’ll notice)
2-3 carrots, diced (baby carrots, or even a parsnip, work in a pinch)
2 garlic cloves, minced (or pre-minced from a jar—no judgment)
Half a stick butter (or margarine, or a glug of olive oil if that’s your thing)
⅓ cup all-purpose flour (I one time used self-raising, and it was... interesting. Don’t do it.)
2 cups chicken or turkey stock (low sodium if you can; bouillon cubes are fine)
1 cup whole milk (I’ve done it with 2% but whole is richer)
Zest and juice of 1 lemon (but honestly, bottled stuff in a clinch. On second thought, zest is pretty essential, don’t skip it if you can help it)
2–3 tablespoons fresh dill, chopped (I’ve cheated with dried dill when I was desperate, just use less)
1 cup frozen peas (just chuck them in frozen)
Salt and black pepper – I’m a crank with pepper, but taste as you go
For the biscuits: 2 cups flour, 2 teaspoons baking powder, ½ teaspoon baking soda, ½ teaspoon salt, 6 tablespoons cold butter (grated or diced), 1 cup buttermilk or plain yogurt thinned with milk (I’ve been known to use sour cream watered down in a pinch)

How I (Usually) Throw This Together

Preheat your oven to 425 F (220C). I usually forget to do this till halfway through, but you, be better than me.
Get your biggest skillet or a Dutch oven (if you don’t have either one, any deepish pan will work). Toss in the butter and melt it over medium heat.
Throw in the onion, celery, and carrot. Stir and let ‘em get soft, about 5-7 minutes. Add the garlic, let it sizzle just a bit, then stir in the flour. It might get lumpy. Don’t worry—it always looks weird at first. Cook and stir it for a minute or two until you get this sort of paste (this is where I always get worried, but it pulls together).
Now pour in the stock, scraping up the brown bits; then the milk. Stir, stir, stir. If it gets clumpy, just whisk a bit and keep the faith.
Bubbling? Good. Add the turkey, lemon zest and juice, dill, peas, and plenty of salt and pepper. Give it a taste—seriously, sneak a taste. Not lemony enough? Add a bit more juice. Too thick? Splash in more stock or milk. Take off the heat.
For the biscuits: In a bowl, stir together flour, baking powder, soda, salt. Rub in the cold butter till it’s pebbly. Pour in the buttermilk and mix—just till it holds together. Too dry? Add a splash more milk. I don’t fuss with rolling—just dollop by the spoonful on top of the turkey mixture in rough heaps. Makes them wonderfully rustic (read: lopsided).
Bake, uncovered, for 20–25 minutes till biscuits go golden and the filling bubbles up wildly at the edges. Sometimes I broil in the last minute for extra golden tops, but watch it. I have, uh, burnt them before. Oops.

Some Notes from the Trenches

Don’t stress if the filling seems runny before baking—it thickens up a lot with the biscuits on top.
If your biscuits are spreading into one great biscuit mega-cap, that’s normal and actually better (more crispy edges!).
I tried skipping the lemon once and it felt a little flat. Maybe it’s just me, but the zest especially is magic here.
Keep an eye on oven-hot spots. One side of mine always cooks faster. (Why? Your guess is as good as mine.)

Our Family’s When-I-Get-a-Wild-Hair Variations

I sometimes add extra veggies—throw in some mushrooms or chopped spinach, why not.
One wild summer, I subbed tarragon for dill. It was okay... just lacked that "zing" I love. Dill or bust for me now.
Substitute leftover roast chicken or even ham. Turkey’s still best, though. Trust me (or don’t—try it!)

Don’t Sweat the Equipment

If you don’t own a Dutch oven, just use the deepest oven-safe pan you’ve got. I’ve even baked this in a big Pyrex dish after doing the filling in a saucepan—it gets bubbly enough. Biscuits don’t mind what they’re baked on.

Turkey and Biscuits Casserole with Lemon and Dill

How I Store (or More Honestly, Fail to Store) Leftovers

Technically, it keeps in the fridge for up to 3 days, tightly covered. Reheat gently in the oven or microwave (sometimes I splash a little milk over the biscuit part so it doesn’t get too dry). But honestly, in my house, it never lasts more than a day. If you manage leftover—bravo.

What I Like Serving With This Turkey Biscuit Bake

Sometimes I quickly toss together a green salad—what’s in the fridge, no rules. My cousin swears by cranberry sauce on the side, which is surprisingly great. Once my daughter ate it cold at breakfast... eh, to each their own! For the over-21s: white wine is perfect. Or even a crisp hard cider if you want to be fancy-ish.

Lessons I’Ve Learned (Pro Tips)

Don’t rush the biscuit step; I did once, and they came out raw in the middle. Patience, grasshopper.
If you use bottled lemon juice, taste first—the flavor can be kinda harsh. Half and half with fresh is better.
Let it cool for at least 10 minutes or you’ll burn your tongue (speaking from, let’s say, extensive personal experience).

Burning Questions (Yep, Real Ones)

Can I make this with raw turkey? I don’t recommend it; needs to be cooked or you risk a sad, grey filling and, well, nobody wants that.
Can you freeze this casserole? You can, but the biscuits get a smidge soggy on reheating. Still edible though! Bake from frozen, covered first then uncovered.
How do I make this gluten-free? Use a 1-for-1 GF flour blend, and your favorite GF biscuit recipe. Here’s a decent GF biscuit option I’ve tried once (pretty decent even if a bit crumbly).
What if I hate dill? Parsley and a pinch of tarragon is nice, or just leave the herbs out. But for me, the dill makes it sing. Up to you!
Where’d you learn this recipe? Adapted it over way too many family gatherings! Also got inspo form Serious Eats.

Quick detour before I end: Once I dropped an entire bowl of biscuit dough on the floor and had to start again from scratch. The dog was thrilled. Just goes to show—even if it feels like you’ve gone a bit sideways, dinner will probably still turn out okay. Happier mistakes have been made!

Turkey and Biscuits Casserole with Lemon and Dill