Turkey Trepidation
Just the idea of a juicy, succulent, roast turkey on Thanksgiving afternoon makes me want to get up and dance. Roast turkey is on my “Top 20 List of Happy Things.” Prior to its entrance into my oven, however, and subsequent applause-worthy exit; all dressed up and tan, the necessary steps to achieve true turkey perfection are the cause of many a turkey-related case of hives. I’m not very adventurous anymore on Thanksgiving. I choose my holiday “standard” so I don’t have to deal with a NEW bird and have something go miserably wrong. I want my enormous breasted Butterball in his plain, white plastic coat. I don’t care how he got so big either . The first of many “Turkey-Go-Wrong” years began when, once, my Mom cooked a turkey in a Nesco in our garage. What we ate that night not only smelled like car and grass clippings, but somehow the turkey exploded, leaving only a bony pile. Another year I bought a less expensive, generic brand of turkey. I prepared him as I...