I can’t seem to stop talking about food.
On any given day, clueless victims will fall prey to the innocence of my tactics. A simple comment or perhaps a question will often result in a lengthy conversation about anything, as long as it’s edible.
While at work, on a Tuesday as slow and painful as
biting cement (and just days shy of Thanksgiving), I conducted my own survey of sorts, in an attempt to uncover the most desirable method for preparing turkey. That is not to say that ‘most desirable’ refers to the easiest (or safest) method of preparation, but rather the method which produces the most flavorful results.
My customers were few and far between and covered a wide range of ages (from about seven to seventy-seven). Some shared their distaste for the bird altogether and fixated only on the fixins. Others, so disgruntled by a long wait and our staff's inability to meet their needs, simply refused to engage in turkey-talk, and likely considered sharing a centrally-digited bird of a different feather at me, and not with me.
The majority however, agreed that once a turkey has been fried (and take note of that spelling—not to be confused with ‘fired,’ as in burning down the whole bloody deck as a result of improper use of that chamber of hot-oil-hell, known as a turkey Fry-Daddy), there is simply no alternative from that day forward. I’m told that the taste and texture of fried turkey is sublime, and the experience is nothing short of religious—a pilgrimage for the palate.
And quite frankly, no one is boasting about roasting.
Well, save for one customer who so cleverly recommended that if I liked the skin crispy but suffered fear-of-frying issues, then why didn’t I just flip over the turkey to crisp the bird in its entirety?
I considered this almost-brilliant suggestion for a moment, and had she not made such a quick exit, I would have asked her two questions; first, how she would suggest I flip a hot, thirty pound turkey in a kitchen devoid of forceps and helpful, strong men
(who would likely be grunting from the man-cave, focused on The Cowboys and Thanksgiving guacamole—don’t’ ask; just know that it’s not the life I planned)? And secondly, I would inquire how one keeps the top-crispness of a slow-roasted, breast-up turkey, once it’s flipped over and subsequently sitting in turkey juices?
Thankfully, Columbus didn’t stick with his flat-earth theory any longer than I was buying into the flip-it-don’t-fry-it method of perfect poultry preparation.
And so, as a result of my informal survey, I would add turkey-frying to my Thanksgiving to-do list, along with attending the Macy’s Parade and visiting a local movie theatre with the rest of the population; something I have never done, due in part to my usual tryptophan-induced coma, and my undying loyalty to late-day leftovers.
For now, I am satisfied knowing that the turkey, however crisp-less it may turn out, will be surrounded by much-loved fixins, family and friends.
I hope for all of us that while the meal may be heavy,
our hearts will be light.
I look forward to sitting at our large, family table where food and blessings are abundant, and wine and conversation flow freely.
And if I have anything to do with it, that conversation will ultimately turn to the subject of food.
Until Next Time,
Make Life Delicious
Share Your Food