Fresh from the oven
With the Reveillon behind us, and a few hours of sleep to reset the body clock, the family is now ready for what Christmas is really concerned about. That is, the big meal at the end of the afternoon. With a couple of decades of experience as a cook instead of a tableplace, I’ve got the show under control.
First thing to prepare is the stuffing mix. Not a mix in the storebought sense, as I am adept at recreating a rice-based stuffing that I once sampled in a school cafeteria. Let’s see: rice, some cooked meat (pork, beef, veal), onions, celery and garlic, all tossed together in a really big bowl to reduce spillage.
Next, a bird that is suitable. Not much choice here; turkey rules in the area, so I have a sixteen-pounder ready to serve as cannon fodder. Clear the passages, stuff and sew, and into the oven for the rest of the afternoon. 325 degrees F. Arbitrarily chosen. Forego the bacon on top; it was really just an excuse to eat a pound of bacon before supper anyhow.
Potatoes, veggies, gravy, pickles, cranberries. Nothing forgotten, and the table is set before the turkey arrives fresh from the oven. Season’s greeting, chow down and done for another year. Well, almost.
You see, there is no way that we will eat that large a bird in one sitting, so I get another hour of careful careless deboning. It is obvious that a larger bird means ONLY more leftovers. Next year I must be more controlled in my purchase. Cleaning a turkey up after the meal renews the satisfaction I have in never having studied anatomy: I don’t need to know the name of each muscle, tendon, bone and whatever else those unidentified turkey parts might be. If it looks dry, or crunchy, or like a stay from a corset it gets thrown away. The remainer will provide hot turkey sandwiches for the next few day.
I received a wireless telephone designed for Skype, so it’s now time to go and enjoy the holiday.
