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| What do you have to say for yourself? |
It's always good to warn your guests that maybe things didn't go according to plan. That way, they know not to expect much. Rather than say, "Wait till you taste the turkey, mmm good," I like to issue a warning. "Come on in, I almost destroyed the turkey." "Love your scarf. I almost burned down the house." "Your coat is so soft! How do you feel about charbroiled turkey?" I blame Martha Stewart. Her stupid cheesecloth method didn't work, mainly because I didn't follow directions, but that's beside the point. I watched her do it on the Today Show, and she said nothing about making sure you use lots of layers of cheesecloth. Or, if she did, I sure as hell didn't hear her. So I set the oven at 450, I put in the turkeys, smothered in butter and sherry-drenched stupid cheesecloth, and when the birds turned, what's the word I'm looking for, black, and the house filled with smoke, and hubby gave me one of his famous looks (he has two looks, pissed, and really pissed), I thought, uh, holy sh*t, what up with that? In panic mode, I called Amy, my spiritual turkey guide. "Amy? Is it supposed to be black?" She said yes, the cheesecloth is indeed supposed to be black. "So the turkey isn't really black, it's just the cheesecloth, right?" A long pause on the other end. "Well, yeah, but maybe you should check under the cheesecloth." "Okay, hang on. Oh, no. Oh, God. I think I eff'd up. Gotta go." I turned the oven down to 325, I took off the stupid cheesecloth, I wrapped my birds in foil and prayed. Then I went to turn on the dishwasher and it broke. Yes, water poured out. It was the great flood of Sherman Oaks. Then hubby started swearing. I ran to get the bucket and towels. Many hours of testy behavior followed. At some point, the guests arrived and claimed that the turkey was wonderful. Of course, they'd all been drinking. They could've been eating tree bark. What did they know? Tomorrow, the new dishwasher arrives. Hubby plans to install it himself. I plan to be out of town.
A traditional Thanksgiving! Gotta love it!
ReplyDeleteSo true, Candice. Hope yours was good, too, and not quite as crispy.
ReplyDeleteShoulda made friends with the north coastal indians... they know how to cook with bark or cheesecloth or whatever over an open fire... and they have experience with life on the edge of high tides from the incurring ocean. Hope your hogan survived and the guests burped with glee in sated gluttony... I've learned a little secret: turkey can be the side dish to yams with marshmellows and stuffing.
ReplyDeleteLove it Carol! You always make me laugh in recognition! Everyone's story!
ReplyDeleteHappy Holidays ox
Our turkey took an hour longer than planned, then a seal on our garbage disposal broke and water leaked under the sink, drenching everything. Luckily, our guests were soused by then, as well, and a good time was had by all. Plumber comes tomorrow...
ReplyDelete-Laura McGraw
You've all made me feel so much better. Big thankie! Next year, we buy one already cooked and present it as if I've made it.
ReplyDeleteAnd the buy the way... I swear that Carol's turkey was moist and delicious!!
ReplyDeleteDid this *really, really* happen? Matters not--still one great and hilarious read! Try game hens next year: No cheesecloth needed and very quick cookers!
ReplyDeleteVicki, it really really did happen. I don't make this stuff up, I just embellish.
ReplyDeleteI can swear it really happened...and that you do indeed need to fold the cheese cloth to about 4 layers and it will work perfectly.. and despite all the chaos..., the turkey was exquisite... :) mwah!
ReplyDeleteOh Amy, my spirit guide, next time it's my turn, I'm hearing you to cook my turkeys!!!
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