Thursday, March 17, 2011

A silly paradox, and turkey

It's a silly paradox really...it is. In the last two days I have managed to pull off what I would consider two *fabulous cooking accomplishments, so I have been feeling rather excellently home-makerish. And yet as I look around at the overly cluttered breakfast table (which we have never actually had breakfast at.) the heap of my daughter's laundry waiting to be folded in the living room, and listen to the crunch of a thousand crumbs being crushed into powder whenever I move the laptop on the dining room table, I am suddenly feeling quite un-excellently-home-makerish. See, it's a silly little paradox isn't it? (Wait is paradox even the correct word usage...? Hmm....) Well then I'll just tell you all about my *fabulous first time cooking a turkey and then go fold some laundry. Yes, that should do it.
*Editor's note - what is fabulous to the author is most likely quite normal to the average cook.

Adventures in Cooking, pt. 1 - The Bird

So, I was tucking away some groceries in the deep-freezer on Monday, when I spied the turkey I had bought last Thanksgiving. (You know, one of those crazy promotions Meijer does where if you buy the turkey and $25 worth of groceries you get around $15 off so you end up paying about $5 for an entire turkey...? Ah, but I digress.) Well I decided it was about high time I give this turkey thing a try. (Not to mention it would be sooo nice to have all the left over turkey to use in my future cooking!) So I hauled all 12 lbs of it upstairs and plunked it in the sink and filled it up with ice cold water. And there it sat...for several hours. I pretty much forgot about it until just before bed when I hauled it out of the sink and chucked it in the fridge, disappointed the plastic-wrapped iceberg didn't feel as if it had thawed at all. I ignored it all day Tuesday because the package said to let it thaw for a couple days in the fridge. Except of course when oozed pink liquid all over the bottom of my fridge. Gross. Perhaps trying to get my attention? After cleaning up the mess I resumed ignoring it. Fast forward to Wednesday. It was the big day. I woke up that morning and knew what I had to do. I had to do what I had watched my saint of a mother do for all those years. I had to unwrap it, rinse it out, and pull out all the disgusting neck pieces and other sundry items that the fine people at Jenny-O turkey mistakenly thought I would want to eat. After wrestling the beast out of it's plastic prison, I steeled myself and dove in. I grabbed on to something innards-looking thing and pulled. It wouldn't budge. Tug-tug. Squirm and do the girly-girl "eewww!" dance. Nope, it was frozen into the turkey. You have got to be kidding me. Que more girly-ness and "ewwwing". So I ran some cold water over it for a little while and was finally able to pry out what I discovered was a bent, frozen, neck. Next came the giblets, or heart, or whatever they were. Out they went and joined the neck in a plastic bag which was double knotted and quickly hurled into the trash can. More rinsing of the cavity, pulling out ice chunks, and having second thoughts. I decided to distract myself by making stuffing. Yes, it was the box kind, so yes, I cheated. But I was just proud of myself that I was going to be stuffing and roasting my first turkey. Ever. After one final rinse, I spooned all of my cheaters stuffing into the cavity of the great bird and plunked it in a freshly oiled and seasoned 9x13 pan. Before this I had texted my Mom for some advice on oiling (yes or no?) and seasoning the bird, but she was busy, so I just decided to wing it. (Who needs to check google when you have a gut instinct!) I then dumped and rubbed more oil all over the rest of the bird, and vigorously shook various spices all over the top. Finally, after fighting with rather uncooperative tin foil, I stuffed it into my preheated oven and set the timer. For 6 hours. Wowsa...I have never in my life had anything in an oven for that long. It felt quite strange to see 5:59 left on the timer, and knowing that it wasn't minutes and seconds. That finished I turned around to clean up the disaster zone of raw turkey juice, spices, and a rogue piece of innards I had somehow missed. Now, on with my day! I couldn't exactly hover near the oven, checking it every few seconds for six hours now could I? Fast forward to 5:00pm when the timer went off. By this time the house smelled absolutely glorious. The turkey had been carefully checked and basted a few times and was now joined by a few rogue sweet potatoes I found hiding in the cupboard along with a halved acorn squash. They were all tender, and done. I pulled the bird out of the oven, peeled back the tinfoil and beheld the delicious golden brown skin, the beautiful juices pooled in the bottom of the pan, the intoxicating steam (seriously, they could fight crime with that stuff. Just spray some fresh roasted turkey scent in the air and the criminals would forget would stop running and start looking for a turkey.) and I couldn't believe it. I didn't dare believe it until I cut into it and actually tried some of it. After eating a few bites I stepped back and gave myself a pat on the back, because I actually pulled it off. I roasted a turkey and it tasted good. So for dinner that night we feasted on oodles of turkey, drenched in those delicious aforementioned juices, doctored up sweet potatoes, and cheaters corn-bread stuffing. I had wanted to go all out and make a batch of mashed potatoes from scratch along with a green bean casserole but Dave (hubby) was afraid I would burn myself out. (He is a wise man who knows his wife quite well!) After dinner I picked every last salvageable, edible piece of meat off of it and filled up several containers. Ahhh...satisfaction. I then chucked all the leftovers (bones, etc.) into a big pot of water and boiled up some delicious stock to use for later cooking. (And being the greedy, Dutch, cheapie that I am, I did it a second time and got MORE stock for cooking.) After surveying all my handy work and feeling ridiculously proud of myself (music swelling in the back ground: "Youuuur sooo vain!") and feeling absolutely elated, just when things couldn't get better.... Dave decided to take us all out for "Waffle Cone Wednesday" at TCBY. That's right, we got to go for a walk in the lovely Spring weather, feast on ice cream, and then wander over to Baker Bookhouse and peruse the used book section. (Again, the Dutch-cheapie-ness. Why look at the new stuff when you can get the used books for so much cheaper?)
So all in all, it was a down right awesome day. Is it a super big deal that I roasted a turkey successfully? To me, after all the cooking endeavors I have botched, yes, this is big. To the average, or even accomplished cook? Nahhh! So to all you timid cooks out there - give it a shot! Because it really is incredibly easy, and a 9 year old could probably do it. Plus, you end up with some killer left overs.

Well to those of you still here who didn't fall asleep half way through this absurdly detailed narrative - thank you! You are too kind. And to those of you who gave up - that's ok. Wake up! and go to bed. But first, here, have some turkey. We have tons of it now.

2 comments:

Chrissy Evans said...

I LOVE your last two, new blogs! What a writer we have in the family! Thanks for the laughs, sister! Love you much.

lys said...

As one Dutch-cheapie to another, (and I realize it's too late for this time, but you can consider it for the next Turkey Dinner) did you know that your cat(s) would absolutely LOVE to devour all those weird extra bits they package with the turkey? They can eat it raw! Of course, that requires handling and cutting it up yourself and all... But your cats! They would be so happy! They would love you so much!! Haha, but I don't blame you if you don't wanna deal with it. Most people don't really enjoy poking at raw meat...

Anyway. Go you, Emmy!! I'm glad you met with success and you deserve to be proud of it! I have never roasted a turkey either but perhaps someday I will attempt it! (not anytime soon though—I think it would take me a couple months to get through all the leftovers myself!)