Sooooo...
Let's recap what you've achieved so far:
1. You have successfully estimated the size, ascertained how much
people will eat, have purchased and hauled home a turkey from the
grocery store, no doubt braving the wilds of the grocery store parking
lot. This was probably a wee bit hairy, but you nonetheless survived.
Good on you.
2. You have have let your bird sit in the sink overnight to defrost. If
you are a paranoid weenie, you did this in your refrigerator and your
bird is probably still cold. I don't want to hear it.
3. You have prepared your stuffing and have successfully navigated the
caverns left within your bird by some very nice disembowler/decaptiator
at the turkey processing plant. Thank them. They just made your life
easier. 4. You have decided how long your turkey needs to cook for. Go here and use the handy dandy turkey cooking calculator.
There should also have been a little schedule on the bag your turkey
came in. Either way, you can figure out what time you need to put the
bird in the oven so it will be ready when you want to eat. For
instance, according to the calculator, if I was cooking a frozen, defrosted and stuffed ten pounder and wanted to eat it at 5:00 on
Thanksgiving Day, it calculates that I would need to put it in the oven
at 350 degrees, at 1:10, removing it at 4:30, because good ol' Tom
Turkey needs some time to rest before you carve it. The bigger the
bird, the longer it will take to cook. Obviously. It's important to
mention that you---ahem---should stuff and truss the bird right before
you cook it. Don't do this hours in advance. That
would be asking for food poisoning. Ya got it? And now it's time to
stuff your bird!
You might be wondering why, someone, at some point in time, came up
with the absolutely unhygienic idea of stuffing a bird with spiced
bread crumbs. Well, that would be a good question, and the answer
is...I haven't the foggiest idea of why they started doing that. I
would suspect that it's because if you put something in the bird's
cavities, your bird will cook more evenly and will keep your bird from
drying out. I would also suspect that stuffing---or what the hoi polloi
call dressing---became a tasty side dish only because when they cooked
over campfires they didn't exactly have other receptacles to cook the
stuff in. Maybe it's because when you cook something inside the bird,
it transfers some of its goodness into the flavor of the meat (and some
of the flavor of the meat onto the stuffing...mmmm). Honestly, I don't
know why our ancestors started stuffing the cavities of the birds they
killed with stuff. Don't have a clue. For whatever reason, we have
stuffing, and if you haven't been scared silly of salmonella poisoning
by those ever conscientious weenies at the FDA, you too will follow the
ancient tradition set forth and will stuff your bird with good stuff.
After all, if you die, you'll die happy. First off, line your turkey up
on your work space with its tits up. Bring your bowl of stuffing over
to the counter and open up that piece of flesh at the neck and start
putting the stuffing into this little space. It shouldn't take too
long, because after all, it's a pretty small space. Now, here's a tip
you need to adhere to: DON'T OVERPACK YOUR CAVITIES
That phrase should have been so unnerving when you read it that you'll
actually do what I say and won't ask any questions. It's bad. If you
would like, throw a clove of garlic into the stuffing, for added
flavor. By now you'll have explored all of the extra packets that came
with the turkey. If you're lucky, they'll have included a small metal
skewers, about as long as a medium-sized nail. If not, they have them
at the grocery store. Run, Forrest! Run!
Or, as a last resort, find some toothpicks for the next task, which
will be piercing that flap of skin and covering the neck area with it
and securing it with the skewer or toothpick so that the neck cavity is
covered and your stuffing will neither fall out and die a horrible
death at the bottom of your pan, or dry out. This, I have found, can be
a slippery and somewhat nasty task. Honestly, I'd prefer sticking my
hands into the turkey's main cavity and fishing out the giblet package
rather than doing this. But it's relatively easy to achieve.
Once that is done, it's time to work on the main cavity. Woooo. You're
excited aren't you? I can feel it all the way over here. I'm shivering
along with you. Anyhoo, now is the time you will need one half of your
cored granny smith apple. Place the half all the way in the back of the
cavity. Now is a good time to run your fingers around again to make
sure you haven't missed any packages that might have slipped past you
earlier. Don't worry. I'll wait.
You're back? Ok, good. Now, you're probably wondering why I had you add
the apple to the stuffing. Well, again, it's a flavor thing. This
imparts a nice, light, crisp apple flavor to the turkey. Trust me,
you'll like it. Plus, it'll help keep your bird from drying out. As you
might have noticed, I'm all about moist turkey. MMMMMMMM. Good stuff.
Now that you've moved up from beginner to amateur in the stuffing of
the turkey department, you'll have a good idea of how to proceed
stuffing the main cavity. Same deal here. Throw in a few cloves of
garlic while you're at it if you're so inclined. Keeping in mind my
instructions about NOT OVERPACKING THE STUFFING, sometime in the very
near future you will actually come to the end of the cavity. When you
reach this point, you can decide if you're going to throw in the second
half of the apple or if you're going to start snacking prematurely.
It's up to you. If you bought a big bird, well, throw that bad boy in
there and cover it up with the last of the stuffing. If your bird is
smaller, you may not have room for the apple. You are at the helm of
the Starship Turkey: it's your bird, take it on the journey you want it
to travel.
So, now you're more than halfway there. Congratulate yourself, my
turkey newbie! Now, go and wash your hands. GO! I know where your hands
have been and I demand that you wash them before you touch anything
else. Get Auntie Edna to turn on the faucet for you if you must. BUT
FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY WASH THOSE FILTHY HANDS OF
YOURS!
This, my friends, is why I told you to keep the big bottle of hand soap
at the ready. I feel better now. Moving right along, we've come to the
easy part of all this: the outside.
First, take your salt and pepper and liberally shake them along the
entire turkey's skin. You need to do this not only on the top half, but
along the underside as well. Pretty easy stuff. Always, always, always
season your meat---any meat---with salt and pepper. Even if it's a
lowly hamburger. It adds a lot of flavor, even if you don't add a lot
of salt and pepper. Second, wash your hands again. You have once again
touched the turkey. Your hands are dirty and anything you touch in the
meanwhile will have turkey cooties transferred onto it. Aunt Edna has
been begging for something to do: let her turn the faucet on for you.
Third, take your bottle of vegetable oil and get a big handful. You are
now about to embark on the step my mother refers to as "putting on the
suntan lotion." Because that's exactly what you're doing. You will
liberally slather the oil over the entire skin of the bird. You will do
this in lavish style, in a veritable Restoration-like manner, with the
spirit of Charles II and his many mistresses overlooking your shoulder,
covering all the cracks and crevices heretofore unnoticed. Make Chuck
proud: he didn't retake the throne of England from Cromwell and his
cronies so you could eat like a Puritan. This acts as suntan lotion: it
will keep your turkey from frying up, will keep the skin moist, and
moreover will provide a nice crispiness when everything is said and
done. Fourth, go and wash your hands again. Auntie Edna needs something
to do and your hands are oily. Fifth, it's time for the string. Go here
and watch this video and read the instructions.
I can't describe how to do it better than the video shows you.
Sixth, transfer that bird to the pan. If you have a rack, great. Rest
it on the rack, tits up. If not, rest it in the center of the pan
you're using. Seventh, prepare a tent for the turkey out of tinfoil.
Mom calls this "a hat" so, as your turkey is obviously
conspiracy minded, you get to construct a tinfoil chapeau to protect it
from all that radiation, whilst simultaneously roasting it to a fine
golden hue. Good passive-agressive fun, no? Never mind if your turkey
is a moonbat or a freeper: you're going to knock some sense into it
during the roasting process. Aren't you happy? I know I am. Seriously
though, measure out enough foil to cover the entire top of the turkey,
then cut it off. I find the foil actually stays put if I put "borders"
on the edges, by folding each edge over about an inch. The weight of
the borders holds the foil in place, so it's less likely to float off
the bird when you stick it in the oven. Place the foil on top of the
breasts, the purpose of this exercise being two-fold: to ensure the
white boob meat doesn't dry out and that the turkey skin doesn't get
too crispy during the hours your bird will be in the oven. And that, my
turkey newbies, is how to prepare a bird for Thanksgiving Dinner.
In our next installment of As The Bird Turns: "Stop opening the oven and let the bird cook, freak!"