Thanksgiving eve. The house smells like spices and cleaning solutions. The carpets are mowed and the potties are clean. I’ve been cooking on and off for three days in preparation. Tis show time.
I got up in the middle of the night to get glass of water and write down what was going through my head. When to put the bird in, when to start to the potatoes, what would be competing for what in the oven, do I have enough refrigerator space. As I stood out on the four season porch looking over the Estate I saw a flashlight beam piercing the mist. Burglar? Escaped Mental Patient.. not escaped but.. nope it’s the neighbor. Doing his Thanksgiving prep. He’s BBQing a turducken, that abomination of nature that is Coach Madden’s contribution to the culinary world.
A turkey, stuffed with a chicken, stuffed with a duck. With stuffing in-between each layer. We were chatting about this yesterday. According to the neighbor, in order for the turducken to keep it’s 1:00 appointment with a carving knife it has to go down on the grill sometime between 2:00 and 2:03 am in the morning. Hence the lights. And the device that will he will be grilling the thing on? A green egg. It’s a charcoal BBQ made for the modern man. He was showing me some of the accessories. A remote controlled blower for the coals, thermostat probes for the meat and for the temperature in the egg, a remote control device that lets him know when certain important events are required.
“BASTE NOW”
“TURN NOW”
“YOUR MEAL IS COMPLETE”
I don’t think I had as much monitoring equipment at last months sleep study as these birds will have during their 8 hour trip to the sauna.
That’s the kind of pressure the suburbs brings lays on it’s denizens. My oven baked single species offering will surly pail in comparison.
I really want to figure out a way to “pop” over there about the time Franken-Bird comes to the carving table to see it and, frankly, to taste it. I even offered my house for their guests who smoke. I like smokers, and they don’t get much love these days. Maybe someone will bring me a slice of the thingie.
For our feast, as I said a single species in the oven. Herbed turkey. I loved it last year, and I’m sure I’ll love it this year.
Made the cranberry from scratch. Orange zest, triple sec.. it’s good stuff.
Stuffing balls.
Gravy
Garlic mashed potato.. secret here. I hate mashed potatoes. I hate potatoes in general unless they’re fried or in the form of delicious tater tots.
That’s all I’m making this year. Farmed out the sweet potatoes and dessert. I’ll make coffee too. But that’s it. Easy sneazy.
Good luck to the rest of you home chefs out there. May your day be relaxed and enjoyable and may all your dishes arrive at the time table on time at and the proper temperature. Happy Thanksgiving.
