All righty then!
So, we're going to fast forward to tomorrow---that would be Thursday.
It's Thanksgiving. The balloons are meandering their way to whatever
place in Manhattan it is that they wander to. You have your bird in the
sink, (or the refrigerator if you're a weenie) you poke at it with your
fingers and the squishy sensation of defrosted meat works its way up
your fingertip to the neurons in your brain, where such information is
processed. You say, "Aha! It's time!" It's time to open that bad boy
up. Get your scissors out and free the bird. If you really want to be
bad about it, throw in the DVD of Fly Away Home . Then proceed to cackle evilly and say, in a Spectre-ish voice, "I'm
going to eat one of your fine feathered friends for dinner. After I
roast him, of course. What have you got to say about that, my dear
stupid geese?" Or not. It all depends upon how into this you're
getting. You need not channel me. That might be bad and might scare
your family. Yet, it all depends how liquored up they are. Could be
entertaining. You never know. Anyway, what you're going to need at this
point in time is as follows:
-A pair of scissors, but you've probably got those out already
-Your prepped stuffing, if you plan on stuffing your bird, which I
highly recommend that you do because it tastes yummy. There will be
instructions on the bag on how much stuffing to prep for a bird of your
size. I shouldn't have to say this, but you're a newbie, so I will:
have only that much ready to go. -A clean prep station. If you have a
big, wooden cutting board or a butcher's block in your house, use that.
If not, clean off a part of your counter with anti-bacterial cleanser
and use that. The important thing to have here is space. Give yourself
room to maneuver.
-A big bottle of hand soap next to the sink. You're going to be putting
your hands in and out of the bird's cavities, and the former service
professional in me DEMANDS that you wash your hands everytime you touch
the meat and move onto something else. Sorry. I wash my hands at least
four times a night when I'm preparing something as mundane as chicken,
but there has never been an incidence of food poisoning at the Cake
Eater Pad, so I must be doing something right. -Your granny smith
apple, skin on, cut in half with the core hallowed out of each half. No
seeds, in other words.
-A few cloves of garlic, skinned. How many cloves you use is dependent
upon how much you like garlic. The husband claims you can never have
too much garlic. I say you can, but it's up to you. If you do not know
your garlic tolerance level, by all means skip this bit. -A roasting
pan replete with rack. If you do not have one of these, you can
purchase one at Target for a reasonable price ($40 or thereabouts). If
you have settled down to make your Turkey and have completely forgotten
to get a pan to do it in, find a heavy duty foil roasting pan at the
grocery store. I find they're generally in the aisle with all the
cleaning products, but since it's Thanksgiving and all, the store
manager might have moved them to an end-cap, for easy reach. If you
can't find one, ask. And, no, you cannot cook a turkey in a cake pan.
It does not work. -Your bottle of vegetable oil
-Salt and pepper
-A ball of string
-Foil
Ok, got all your stuff together? Is your work space prepped? Do you
have an apron on? Better question, are you male and does the apron make
you look hot? If so, here's my number... {insert slap on head from
husband here}Anyhoo, it's time to start prepping your fine and formerly
feathered friend for his moment in the sun. (pun completely intended)
Now that your turkey has shed his wrappings, it's time to check him
out. And by that I mean it's time for you to snap your rubber gloves in
a menacing way and go cavity diving. You'll also be doing this without
the machine that goes PING!
It may be the most expensive machine in the whole hospital, but
honestly you don't need it. You'll survive. This is the first thing you
have to do, and I'm sorry for it, but hey, you're going to have your
hands in and out of this bird all day long---you might as well get used
to it.
There are two cavities that you will need to check: the neck and the
main body cavity. We'll start with the easy one: the neck. The neck is
up where you'd expect the neck to be: it's hidden behind a flappy piece
of skin and, depending upon the size of the bird you bought, the cavity
here will be about the size of a cup (the measuring kind) or a wee bit
larger. Once you have checked that out, it's time to work your way
around to the back of the bird and check the main cavity. It's the one
between the legs. Not really all that hard to find. There will probably
be a piece of plastic holding the legs together. Remove this and throw
it away. Are you ready? Ok, it's time to go cavity diving.
Now, I realize this isn't the most appealing part of roasting a turkey.
It's gross, it reminds you of either your proctologist or
gynecologist's behavior. Well, get over it. Think of yourself as a
little kid who has just found a mud puddle. You know it's bad to jump
in the mud puddle. You know your mom will disapprove. But you want to
do it anyway because you have a morbid fascination with all things
dirty. That's the feeling I want out of you: Think of the bird as a mud
puddle. Let the temptation to jump right in slink over you and embrace
it. You'll find it much easier that way. Once you've removed the bit of
plastic, it's time to stick your hand inside and find the neck and the
giblet package. Now, there's not always
a neck inside these bad boys. In the past couple of years, they seem to
have done away with packaging this up, mainly since people don't use
it. But there will be a package of giblets, which you can save for when
you make the gravy if you like. There might also be other assorted
goodies inside the cavity. Like a gravy packet. Pull these out and
place them in your sink for later use. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?
If it was, medicate with alcohol: that's the only thing that will get
you through the rest of it. It has happened to me in the past where
I've gone cavity diving and I've found that the inside still has a wee
bit of a frosty feel to it. All this means is that your turkey hasn't
completely defrosted. You will begin to freak out, but stop yourself. I
know you're on a schedule, but resist the urge: there is a simple
solution to this problem. Take your turkey over to the sink and fill up
the cavity with warm water. Not hot, warm.
Let Mr. Bird sit upright in your sink so that he looks like he's
reclining in a hot tub, about to have a chat with Anna-Nicole Smith.
Let him rest like that until water becomes cold, then dump the water
out and see where you're at. If the bird still feels frozen, repeat
until the cavity is ready. Your bird will not become waterlogged as a
result of this process. Ok, so now Mr. Bird is ready to go, what's
next? Why, it's time to start stuffing! Which we will handle in our
next installment of As the Bird Turns.