I am fairly certain you don’t really give a crap what I am thankful for, so I will spare you my list of 10 Things I Am Thankful For this Thanksgiving.
Except to say, “You.” I am thankful for you. God how you people crack me up. If I did not have you to vent my frustrations all over, I would probably buy a gun.
(Though I have been thinking of taking shooting lessons for some time now. One stagnates unless one keeps learning new skills, dontchaknow.)
But about the Thanksgiving Turducken:
- We ate it;
- We liked it;
- We unanimously concur we never have to do it again.
The turkey was the best damn turkey I have ever eaten: very moist and tasty. The duck was, er, very ducky, and I don’t mean in an endearing British sort of way. We didn’t find the chicken until we were parceling out the leftovers after the meal.
Rather than layering each bird – first turkey, then duck, then chicken - this one had turkey on the bottom with duck on one side of the second layer and chicken on the other. Stuffing was in all the open spaces, which was problematic because it all fell out the bottom when I picked up the Frankenbird to move it to a platter.
Now I understand why you are supposed to let meat rest after cooking. I was totally planning to let it rest for fifteen minutes. I just planned to do it on a platter rather than in the pan. NO ONE TOLD ME “REST” MEANS “DO NOT MOVE.” Or at least no one told me ahead of time. They were all quite happy to tell me so once the soggy stuffing was laying all over the counter. Bitches.
I thought “rest” just meant “do not cut” until the juices have a chance to get absorbed back into the meat. I am pretty sure that is exactly what it means but, when faced with a meat product stuffed with something else with virtually nothing between said stuffing and a paper-thin layer of skin, I shall in future let the damn thing have a nap to firm up so it does not drop out the bottom in a sodden mess.
In the meantime, I will search my possessions for my “How to be a perfect cook” handbook with accompanying pearls, pumps, and apron so I can brush up on my Suzie Homemaker skills. I hope the cologne that smells like chocolate chip cookies baking is still in the apron pocket where I left it.
