Showing posts with label turkey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label turkey. Show all posts
The Year of the Pop-Up Timer
My dad was not known as a cook. He must have made dinner for himself after my parents divorced, but that’s hard to believe based on the Thanksgivings he put together. He insisted on hosting, and he did his best, but let's just say we didn't go to his place for the food.
Finally, one year he agreed to let me cook. I'd been bragging about my culinary prowess, and he gave in and accepted my claim that I could whip up something more gourmet than what we'd been used to. Now I realize that my baking experience didn't translate into any real dinner-making ability, but back in those days, I thought I could do it all. How hard could it be?
I'd never made a turkey, so to be safe, I bought one of those with the pop-up timers. All I had to do was check occasionally and when it popped up, we would eat. I put the turkey in the oven while we played Scrabble. After an hour or so I looked into the oven. Nope, not ready. More looking, more not ready, more Scrabble.
After what seemed like twice the length of time it should have taken, I pulled the pan out and examined what was turning into withered jerky. No timer was popped up. It must be defective. What a rip-off! Those Butterball people would be hearing from me!
But wait. When I took the mummified bird out of the pan and flipped it onto a platter, it turned out that I’d had it in there upside down. That poor little timer never stood a chance: it had been pressed into the pan. Who knows how long ago it started to try.
That year, we dined on rolls, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce and plenty of pie to the soundtrack of bitching. "Why didn't you put marshmallows in the sweet potatoes?" "I really wanted some turkey." And you’d better believe that, like "The Fruitcake Story," that tale gets re-told more often than it should.
Originally published November 24, 2011
Finally, one year he agreed to let me cook. I'd been bragging about my culinary prowess, and he gave in and accepted my claim that I could whip up something more gourmet than what we'd been used to. Now I realize that my baking experience didn't translate into any real dinner-making ability, but back in those days, I thought I could do it all. How hard could it be?
I'd never made a turkey, so to be safe, I bought one of those with the pop-up timers. All I had to do was check occasionally and when it popped up, we would eat. I put the turkey in the oven while we played Scrabble. After an hour or so I looked into the oven. Nope, not ready. More looking, more not ready, more Scrabble.
After what seemed like twice the length of time it should have taken, I pulled the pan out and examined what was turning into withered jerky. No timer was popped up. It must be defective. What a rip-off! Those Butterball people would be hearing from me!
But wait. When I took the mummified bird out of the pan and flipped it onto a platter, it turned out that I’d had it in there upside down. That poor little timer never stood a chance: it had been pressed into the pan. Who knows how long ago it started to try.
That year, we dined on rolls, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce and plenty of pie to the soundtrack of bitching. "Why didn't you put marshmallows in the sweet potatoes?" "I really wanted some turkey." And you’d better believe that, like "The Fruitcake Story," that tale gets re-told more often than it should.
Originally published November 24, 2011
How to Avoid Turkey Disasters
Thanksgiving brings the potential for turkey disasters, not just dry breast meat but call-the-fire-department disasters.
Can Turkeys Fly? (Video)
This infamous episode of WKRP in Cincinnati answers that question. "It gets pretty strange after that."
Considering Deep Frying A Thanksgiving Turkey? (Videos)
How Not to Deep Fry a Turkey
This turkey...the person frying the turkey, that is...needs a little lesson in appropriate footwear for deep frying. Of course, his brother-in-law isn't much help, dropping the thermometer into the boiling oil.
Turkey Deep Fry
How to make a great deep fried turkey. Note creative use of cardboard boxes and wire hanger.
The Dangers of Turkey Frying
FYI, turkey fryers aren't UL listed, and for good reason. Some valuable tips from the fire department - a must-see before you drop a big bird into a vat of hot, flammable liquid.
An Expert's View of Turkey Fires
A representative from Underwriters Lab illustrates why turkey fryers can be dangerous. Don't try this one at home!
Alternative Turkey Preparations
Turkey in a Trashcan
This how-to video gives you step-by-step instructions on how to cook a full-size turkey in your backyard using, yes, a metal trashcan. That "lovely assistant" sure is a downer!
Kinky Turkey Flogging
This guy insists on only the tenderest and most submissive of turkeys.
Fire in the Hole
The oven is on fire, the alarm is blaring--and the turkey is raw. Think Martha Stewart could pull that off?
Turkey Drop
A 14-pound turkey with is dropped into turkey fryer filled with boiling oil causing - no surprise here! - a fireball. Don't try this at home. Or anywhere. Any time. Ever.
Leftovers: The Best Part of the Turkey (Videos)
What to Do with the After-Thanksgiving Turkey
Tired of leftover-turkey sandwiches? Not quite ready for turkey soup? Here are some ideas for non-traditional leftovers.
Turkey Disasters from Wisconsin
Karen Herzog of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel recently wrote about Thanksgiving turkey disasters in a piece worthy of Hellish Holidays. She'd asked readers to write in about Thanksgiving disasters, and received 50 responses. More than half involved turkey: dropping it on the floor, setting it on fire, even turning it blue.
Blue? Well, when it comes to turkey, people are always finding new ways that things can go wrong. Typically these involve first-time turkey-cookers, but I know from personal experience that even veterans can be undone by the big bird.
In the article, Karin Steffen of Wauwatosa, Wisconsin explained how she was excited to be making her first Thanksgiving turkey. She thought she was all prepared, but had forgotten about trussing. She tore the house apart looking for string but finally had to settle on shoelaces. At least they were new. But unfortunately they were also navy blue, a fact which didn't register at the time.
You can see where this one's going: the dye from the laces seeped into the entire body of the turkey. Thirty years later, Steffen says,"I can sort of laugh about this." I'll bet her family doesn't have any trouble laughing, and brings it up every single year. Some Thanksgiving traditions are just too good to let die.
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Here's another way things can go wrong:
Good luck in the kitchen!
Blue? Well, when it comes to turkey, people are always finding new ways that things can go wrong. Typically these involve first-time turkey-cookers, but I know from personal experience that even veterans can be undone by the big bird.
In the article, Karin Steffen of Wauwatosa, Wisconsin explained how she was excited to be making her first Thanksgiving turkey. She thought she was all prepared, but had forgotten about trussing. She tore the house apart looking for string but finally had to settle on shoelaces. At least they were new. But unfortunately they were also navy blue, a fact which didn't register at the time.
You can see where this one's going: the dye from the laces seeped into the entire body of the turkey. Thirty years later, Steffen says,"I can sort of laugh about this." I'll bet her family doesn't have any trouble laughing, and brings it up every single year. Some Thanksgiving traditions are just too good to let die.
-----
Here's another way things can go wrong:
Good luck in the kitchen!
Thanksgiving Meal Preparations (Videos)
BBQ Bob Gives You the (Thanksgiving) Bird!
Bob's Thanksgiving Day masterpiece. He smoked it ... to perfection! And this time he wasn't drunk when he did it! His family is so proud.
Annoying the Wife in the Thanksgiving Kitchen
Mary prepares the stuffing for a Thanksgiving feast for 20+ people. That's eight loaves of bread for those keeping track at home.
Cornbread Dressing
You know that old expression about too many cooks in the kitchen? Somehow I just have a feeling that dressing came out too salty. And who is that guy expecting to call him on Thanksgiving?
The Traditional Thanksgiving Squid
Thanksgiving Japanese style involves gutting a squid, in great detail.
Washing the Bird
Kim Michele Richardson of theunbreakablechild.com in Louisville, Kentucky started out the way we all did: cowed by a turkey. She learned the hard way how to prepare the "big bird."
It was Thanksgiving 1980, I was 20 years old and I decided to impress my boyfriend and cook Thanksgiving dinner for him and a few friends. There was only one problem. I hadn't quite developed my cooking skills and my only no-fail dishes at the time were a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and grilled cheese.
I called my mother the week before Thanksgiving, the woman who always had the perfect Thanksgiving meal and to-kill-for oyster-sage stuffing. She quickly agreed to lend me her recipes and talk me through all the steps of cooking a delicious meal via the telephone on Thanksgiving morning.
I awoke at the crack of dawn on Thanksgiving and placed the phone call to her.
My mother talked me through preparing her famous stuffing. When I’d finished, she congratulated me, then told me to chill the stuffing in the fridge and get "big bird" out.
Felling very confident, smug even, I took the turkey out of the fridge and yes, yes I did remove all the packaging inside. Yippee, I was on a roll! Man-oh-man was my boyfriend going to be impressed!!
"What’s that, you say Mom? Of course, YES, of course, I took out all the inner packages, liver, gizzard etc. Now what?"
"Wash the big bird inside and out," she’d said. "Wash it good!" Then she patiently hung on the phone line and waited.
After a few minutes she asked what was taking me so long.
And I asked her: "How long is it going to take to rinse the turkey clean? It still has bubbles flowing out the cavity!"
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I did exactly what you said: I’m cleaning it good! I poured Dawn dishwashing detergent in the cavity and on the body. Do you think I used too much Dawn?”
I can promise you I’m a much better cook today. And no, it doesn’t make me crazy to think about it — it just makes me crazy my family won’t forget about it.
It was Thanksgiving 1980, I was 20 years old and I decided to impress my boyfriend and cook Thanksgiving dinner for him and a few friends. There was only one problem. I hadn't quite developed my cooking skills and my only no-fail dishes at the time were a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and grilled cheese.
I called my mother the week before Thanksgiving, the woman who always had the perfect Thanksgiving meal and to-kill-for oyster-sage stuffing. She quickly agreed to lend me her recipes and talk me through all the steps of cooking a delicious meal via the telephone on Thanksgiving morning.
I awoke at the crack of dawn on Thanksgiving and placed the phone call to her.
My mother talked me through preparing her famous stuffing. When I’d finished, she congratulated me, then told me to chill the stuffing in the fridge and get "big bird" out.
Felling very confident, smug even, I took the turkey out of the fridge and yes, yes I did remove all the packaging inside. Yippee, I was on a roll! Man-oh-man was my boyfriend going to be impressed!!
"What’s that, you say Mom? Of course, YES, of course, I took out all the inner packages, liver, gizzard etc. Now what?"
"Wash the big bird inside and out," she’d said. "Wash it good!" Then she patiently hung on the phone line and waited.
After a few minutes she asked what was taking me so long.
And I asked her: "How long is it going to take to rinse the turkey clean? It still has bubbles flowing out the cavity!"
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I did exactly what you said: I’m cleaning it good! I poured Dawn dishwashing detergent in the cavity and on the body. Do you think I used too much Dawn?”
I can promise you I’m a much better cook today. And no, it doesn’t make me crazy to think about it — it just makes me crazy my family won’t forget about it.
Have Some Bleedin' Turkey
Arlene Winnick of Winnick Public Relations in Los Angeles recalls the bleeding turkey story that is now party of her family's legend.
Two families with different backgrounds decided to have a joint Thanksgiving, teaching our kids about traditions and real home cooking. The day before, I realized I would need to order in and fake it since I just did not have time to cook. So I took the entire order out of the containers and put it into my own. On the big day my friend brought all her Italian family favorites and I heated up all my dishes.
The dinner was going great. We talked about the importance of cooking and holiday traditions and the evil Thanksgiving restaurant-goers. I presented the turkey all dressed and beautiful on a platter to many oohs and ahs.
Then my husband started to carve the bird, and with each slice it literally bled. Seems it was basically raw. (I had been told it was fully cooked and just needed to be reheated.) The children screamed like in a bad horror film and my friends looked at me. The moment of truth: Do I say I forgot to cook it or do I fess up and blame the restaurant?
I came clean. Everyone laughed but my children have never let me forget it.
Two families with different backgrounds decided to have a joint Thanksgiving, teaching our kids about traditions and real home cooking. The day before, I realized I would need to order in and fake it since I just did not have time to cook. So I took the entire order out of the containers and put it into my own. On the big day my friend brought all her Italian family favorites and I heated up all my dishes.
The dinner was going great. We talked about the importance of cooking and holiday traditions and the evil Thanksgiving restaurant-goers. I presented the turkey all dressed and beautiful on a platter to many oohs and ahs.
Then my husband started to carve the bird, and with each slice it literally bled. Seems it was basically raw. (I had been told it was fully cooked and just needed to be reheated.) The children screamed like in a bad horror film and my friends looked at me. The moment of truth: Do I say I forgot to cook it or do I fess up and blame the restaurant?
I came clean. Everyone laughed but my children have never let me forget it.
The Year Without Turkey
Nancy O'Neill of Temecula, California writes that her worst Thanksgiving memory comes from the year she thought I got botulism from the turkey.
I was about 12 or so. My mom had cooked a huge turkey as she always did. After taking it out of the oven, she set the roaster on top of the stove with the cover tilted to vent the steam. Somehow, the cover slipped down and shut tight over the roaster. It stayed like that unnoticed for quite awhile. During the time it was cooling on top of the stove, I sneaked a chunk of turkey, put the cover back on as I had found it, and was tickled that I had gotten away with something.
About 10 minutes before we were ready to eat, my mom noticed the cover on tight and decided it was too risky for any of us to eat it for dinner due to possible botulism. We all begged her to let us eat it, but she insisted that missing one turkey for Thanksgiving was not worth making anyone ill, no matter how remote the possibility. She wouldn't even feed it to the dogs because she didn't want them to get sick.
I asked her what the symptoms of botulism poisoning were. As she listed a few of them including blurred vision, dry mouth, muscle weakness and possibly paralysis, I got more worried but still didn't confess. We ate dinner, full of side dishes but without the turkey.
As the night went on, I was convinced I was experiencing a multitude of symptoms. By the time I went to bed, my legs were getting stiff and after lying awake for what seemed like hours, I couldn't stand it anymore. My only thought was that if I didn't tell Mom and I died in my sleep, they would never know what killed me. Little did I know that people generally don't die from botulism. I finally dragged myself out of bed and told Mom.
Even though she hadn't let any of us, including the dogs, eat the turkey, she was pretty sure it was safe. Once she convinced me that I wasn't going to die, I went back to sleep.
I was about 12 or so. My mom had cooked a huge turkey as she always did. After taking it out of the oven, she set the roaster on top of the stove with the cover tilted to vent the steam. Somehow, the cover slipped down and shut tight over the roaster. It stayed like that unnoticed for quite awhile. During the time it was cooling on top of the stove, I sneaked a chunk of turkey, put the cover back on as I had found it, and was tickled that I had gotten away with something.
About 10 minutes before we were ready to eat, my mom noticed the cover on tight and decided it was too risky for any of us to eat it for dinner due to possible botulism. We all begged her to let us eat it, but she insisted that missing one turkey for Thanksgiving was not worth making anyone ill, no matter how remote the possibility. She wouldn't even feed it to the dogs because she didn't want them to get sick.
I asked her what the symptoms of botulism poisoning were. As she listed a few of them including blurred vision, dry mouth, muscle weakness and possibly paralysis, I got more worried but still didn't confess. We ate dinner, full of side dishes but without the turkey.
As the night went on, I was convinced I was experiencing a multitude of symptoms. By the time I went to bed, my legs were getting stiff and after lying awake for what seemed like hours, I couldn't stand it anymore. My only thought was that if I didn't tell Mom and I died in my sleep, they would never know what killed me. Little did I know that people generally don't die from botulism. I finally dragged myself out of bed and told Mom.
Even though she hadn't let any of us, including the dogs, eat the turkey, she was pretty sure it was safe. Once she convinced me that I wasn't going to die, I went back to sleep.
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