Hearing the exclamations from the kitchen the night before Thanksgiving is an annual treat for me. Velda’s giving her all to cook a delectable spread … like always.
Speaking of spread, when I walked into the kitchen from the garage woodshop last evening, Velda had the turkey’s legs splayed at 180 degrees. I may not know my way around a kitchen (Well, I do know how to go around the kitchen, actually, but I digress), but I know that’s not how turkeys usually look in our house.
Several weeks ago, I had strongly encouraged her to attend a local cooking demonstration on how to cook Thanksgiving dinner (a clever strategy of mine) to:
- Distract her from work stresses,
- Distract her from Mrs M’s stresses, and
- Deliver an even better meal today.
Yes, there was something in it for me beyond her getting an autographed cookbook.
OH, and if my children happen to be reading this, don’t worry. Velda promised not to mess with the green bean casserole again. I even carried in the cans of Del Monte green beans myself, so I know she’s got the ingredients right. Your near riot of a few years ago is still a vivid enough memory that she won’t make the mistake of changing that recipe again!
But, back to the star attraction.
Come to find out the turkey had been rendered spineless not by the Lady’s rapier wit, but by a fair amount of sweat, a dull knife, a sharp knife, poultry shears and a bad word or two. The turkey had been spatchcocked, I’m told.
Who knew that was a word?
In any event, it’s spatchcocked turkey for dinner. We’ve got the whole family coming over, as well as three Bruins that are far from home and in search of a good meal (no surprise there!). We all have much to be thankful for, and I’m looking forward to dining with my wonderful family and some new friends.
Happy Thanksgiving!
A handsome pair of wild turkeys at Alabama’s Eufaula National Wildlife Refuge. Photo by Michael Padgett. Tweeted by the US Department of the Interior, 11/25/15.
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