Abi and I (Lena) were on our way back from our friend's apartment, having retrieved our turkey (which was too big for our freezer) which I had been calling, "Lester." I thought I was quite funny.
Abi started to ask me about Lester, asking if he belonged to someone. Having been down this pet vs. yummy food to eat road before, I easily handled this one. I told her that some animals are pets, and some don't belong to anyone, and we don't eat the pet kind. She seemed satisfied with that answer, and I congratulated myself on having been matter of fact about the whole thing.
When we got home, I went about getting Lester ready for the oven. I got him out of his nice plastic jacket, just like they have at home in the States. I always get a little bit of pre-turkey jitters, as cooking it involves things called "giblets," and the stakes are so high. I reached in to get the packet of "giblets." Success. There seemed to be quite a few things inside there. Maybe some "niblets," too? Now for the neck-- I saw a little bit of neck sticking out, pulled, and--OH MY. THE HEAD WAS ATTACHED!! Lester was a real turkey! With a head! And there it was! I let out a tortured yelp and dropped the Lester head. And his feet were in there, too! I had to leave for a while to gather my bearings. I left them all in the utility sink, and the little ones kept slinking in to take a look at the CSI: Turkey Edition. Sarah got disgusted with all the morbidity of them skulking around, and told them to stop, but too late. Will could barely down Lest-- I mean the turkey. Lesson of the day: never underestimate the power of a styrofoam tray (or plastic jacket in a turkey's case) in making you think that it never had a head. I know. It's a gem.
A side note: Bill was my hero and cut Lester's head off the neck so I could use the neck meat and the "giblets" to make my first real gravy. It rocked.
2 comments:
lol - Your story reminded me of a couple of years ago when, as I began to chop veggies and bread for stuffing on the evening before Thanksgiving, I became quite ill and couldn't continue with the preparations. Natalie was home from college and she and her dad took over. She asked for bedside coaching on how to prepare the turkey - I told her what to do to start it and suggested she call her grandmother to come over early and help with the roasting the turkey. On thursday morning, just as she was approaching the thawed bird to remove the package of giblets with extreme dread, her grandmother rang the doorbell - "Saved by the bell" is how Natalie would describe it.
I will say, though, when I emerged from my bedroom on thursday evening, to greet a table filled with sated relatives, I discovered, to my amazement, that despite my lack of involvement, Natalie and her dad pulled off Thanksgiving dinner to my standards - silver, crystal, china, charger plates, linen napkins.
I hope your thanksgiving dinner, once you recovered from the shock of lester's head stuffed inside him, was reminiscent of thanksgivings past in Ohio, and that you didn't miss family and friends too much
Ok, you're right, this was funny and totally gross! I'm proud of you for pulling it together and rockin the gravy! Luv u --G
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