Thanksgiving Day 2008

Thanksgiving is a great time of the year.  Most of the leaves have dropped from the trees in New England.  People fill their calendars with time off from work.  Family comes to visit. Every store in town has a sale.  Oh yeah, and food.  Enormous amounts of food.  The average American eats upwards of 5,000-7,000 calories on Thanksgiving.  I ate my fair share, and then some. 

Dinner this year was at my in-laws house.  I arrived early to help with the turkey and left the wife behind at home making mashed potatoes.  To my defense, I did peel five pounds of potatoes before I left.  I had also made herb butter from the night before seasoned with fresh chopped sage, thyme, rosemary, salt and black pepper.  I wrapped it in cellophane, formed into a log, and froze overnight.  Once the birds were prepped and cleaned I sliced the herb butter into chips and placed them under the skin of the turkey, making sure to evenly distribute them.  I also made a few small cuts into the meat of the turkey and jammed some butter into the meat.  Once that was finished I massaged the remaining butter on the outside of the bird and seasoned with salt and pepper.  The oven already preheated to 325º, the birds went in and the timer went on.  

After picking up the wife (she had prepared the mashed potatoes and an antipasto dish) we headed back to the in-laws.  My mother-in-law was preparing the sides when I returned.  Her stuffing was reinforced with fresh celery and onions that had been sautéed in a large skillet before being mixed with the bread and seasonings.  Green bean casserole was assembled in Corningware with those little fried French onions layered on top.  A vegetable medley was seasoned with a simple mix of butter, salt, and pepper.  Trust me, it’s all it needed.

While we were putting the finishing touches on all the dishes the family was devouring the antipasto tray the wife had made.  I probably ate half of it.  It consisted of two different types of cheddar, Pepper Jack, sharp provolone, pepperoni, marinated eggplant, pepperoncinis, marinated artichoke hearts, giardiniera salad, and crackers.  I could have eaten just that for my meal and been satisfied.

After several bastings of the turkey (and three hours of cook time) the turkey was removed from the oven, basted one last time, and flipped breast side down to rest.  This was also the best time for me to mix the drippings with the *cough* jarred gravy.  This was a trick my wife saw on TV to make your store bought gravy taste more home made.  It definitely did the trick.  Most jarred gravies are too think and plain.  Adding the drippings (which include some fat, butter, and seasonings from the birds) adds layers of flavor to the usually flat jarred stuff and thins it out to a more home made consistency.  

Being my in-laws house, my father-in-law had the honor of carving up the turkeys.  Yes, that is an electric knife circa 1980 that he’s using.  I don’t want to talk about it.  Once everything was ready we rang the dinner bell and the hordes came charging towards the food table.  It was a whirlwind of food, family, drinks, and yelling; like a family of Tasmanian devil’s at an endless feast.  After the commotion quieted down I helped myself to a plate.  At this time I also realized that I had tasted everything we had made so far and I was already full.  What the heck, it’s the holidays, right?

I ate it all.  I finished my plate.  The herbed turkey was perfect.  You can taste the traces of fresh herbs throughout the meat and skin.  I was lucky enough to get a piece that had one of the pockets of herbs I made.  The potatoes were rich and creamy and the stuffing was perfectly seasoned with just the right textures of crunchy vegetables and slightly soft but not soggy bread cubes.  The vegetables and of course cranberry sauce were also present on my plate, if only for a brief amount of time.  I was so excited to eat, I didn't even get a picture of my plate.  Here is a shot of some of the dishes.  (I must apologize to my Mother-in-law for not getting a full picture of her "tablescape").

All in all it was a good meal.  I was content.  Filled to the limit with what our forefathers supposedly ate on their Thanksgiving Day with the Native Americans.  I was happy, almost euphoric with so much amazing food jammed into my digestive system.  I could have died a happy man.  Then I was reminded of dessert.  You’ve got to be kidding.

Five pies.  You’re NOT kidding?  How am I ever going to make room?  There was the ever present apple, two pumpkins, a chocolate lemon, and a blueberry crumb.  Oh.  My.  God.  I opted for a small slice of apple and a slice of blueberry crumb.  No cool whip, there’s not enough room.  I know the pies were store bought but it didn’t matter. After the pounds of savory salty foods I had just consumed I required something sweet.  And boy was this pie sweet.  The apple was tart and sweet, laced with cinnamon and brown sugar.  The blueberry was topped with large chunks of tightly packed crumbs consisting of butter, sugar, cinnamon, and who knows what else.  It was heavenly, until I got to the end.  Then I felt sick.  I had eaten more than my capacity.  More than any human should eat in one sitting.  So I did what all men do when they eat too much.  Watch football and fall asleep.

*Balloon art by Kurt Beckley of Balloonbenders.com