The Turkey That Would Not Die
Let’s play a game. Can you tell me what’s missing from this picture?
Unless you’re a vegetarian, there is a key ingredient to a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. That’s right…turkey. Turkey is the fowl of choice for Americans across the globe who sit down to celebrate their blessings on this day.
So what do you do when your turkey turns out to be as stubborn as the proverbial mule?
We followed the directions on the wrapping to a T, Grandmommy and me. We let that turkey breast cook and bubble and roast for three hours as tantalizing aromas began to fill the small apartment. Almost faint with hunger, we cooked the green beans, the cauliflower and broccoli, the butternut squash, the dressing, and the sweet potatoes. The salad was tossed. The table set. Just when we thought we couldn’t wait another minute…the timer began to beep. The turkey was ready!
Or was it?
Perhaps three hours was overly ambitious for a turkey breast. Well, we turned the oven up to 450 and let it roast for another fifteen minutes. And another fifteen minutes.
“If that turkey’s not done, I’ll eat my Sunday hat,” said Grandmommy.
“Better get your Sunday hat,” said Steve.
Half an hour later…
I suggested, “Why don’t we go ahead and eat the sides while they’re still warm?”
The sides were absolutely delicious, but it was obvious that the thoughts of the four of us were more focused on the tenacious bird in the oven than on the vegetarian spread on our plates.
Four hours after we initially put the turkey in the oven, we checked the turkey again. It looked cooked. Let’s slice it up! Rrrrrmmmm, rrrrrmmmm, rrrrrrmmm went the electric meat knife. The decadent smell nearly overtook us. We looked with longing at the freshly sliced turkey.
Does that look pink to you?
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Sam.
“Oh my gosh, it’s still not done!?” asked Steve.
“This is the turkey that will not die,” I said.
Grandmommy declared it to be the worst turkey cooking in all her 86 years.
Five hours. Five hours to cook a turkey breast. Of which the last two hours the oven was set on 450. However, as Grandmommy reminded us, through adversity comes great blessing. The turkey was delicious, and thanks to Grandmommy’s administrations, still moist. You might say it was epic. (Steve did.) We all agreed that this would be a Thanksgiving for the record books. It is not likely to soon be forgotten.
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| What's missing on this Thanksgiving table? |
Unless you’re a vegetarian, there is a key ingredient to a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. That’s right…turkey. Turkey is the fowl of choice for Americans across the globe who sit down to celebrate their blessings on this day.
So what do you do when your turkey turns out to be as stubborn as the proverbial mule?
We followed the directions on the wrapping to a T, Grandmommy and me. We let that turkey breast cook and bubble and roast for three hours as tantalizing aromas began to fill the small apartment. Almost faint with hunger, we cooked the green beans, the cauliflower and broccoli, the butternut squash, the dressing, and the sweet potatoes. The salad was tossed. The table set. Just when we thought we couldn’t wait another minute…the timer began to beep. The turkey was ready!
Or was it?
Perhaps three hours was overly ambitious for a turkey breast. Well, we turned the oven up to 450 and let it roast for another fifteen minutes. And another fifteen minutes.
“If that turkey’s not done, I’ll eat my Sunday hat,” said Grandmommy.
“Better get your Sunday hat,” said Steve.
Half an hour later…
I suggested, “Why don’t we go ahead and eat the sides while they’re still warm?”
The sides were absolutely delicious, but it was obvious that the thoughts of the four of us were more focused on the tenacious bird in the oven than on the vegetarian spread on our plates.
Four hours after we initially put the turkey in the oven, we checked the turkey again. It looked cooked. Let’s slice it up! Rrrrrmmmm, rrrrrmmmm, rrrrrrmmm went the electric meat knife. The decadent smell nearly overtook us. We looked with longing at the freshly sliced turkey.
Does that look pink to you?
 |
| Pink to the core. |
“Oh my gosh, it’s still not done!?” asked Steve.
“This is the turkey that will not die,” I said.
Grandmommy declared it to be the worst turkey cooking in all her 86 years.
Five hours. Five hours to cook a turkey breast. Of which the last two hours the oven was set on 450. However, as Grandmommy reminded us, through adversity comes great blessing. The turkey was delicious, and thanks to Grandmommy’s administrations, still moist. You might say it was epic. (Steve did.) We all agreed that this would be a Thanksgiving for the record books. It is not likely to soon be forgotten.
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