Thanksgiving
Vanessa - speak
Me - speak
Ah, the anticipation of Thanksgiving. For months before, Vanessa, Bill and I talked about the festival of food. Bill and I would stay up late comparing Thanksgivings of past and what foods were necessary to have a real Thanksgiving – Turkey, Ham, Green bean Casserole, Mashed Potatoes, Stuffing, Gravy, Brown and Serve rolls, etc. For me this was a pretty big event because this would only be the second time I didn’t spend Thanksgiving with family. It was kind of cool to be having my own, our own, Thanksgiving in the apartment. V and Bill did have Thanksgiving last year in New York but in my eyes it doesn’t count because they didn’t have a turkey and I wasn’t there.
The preparations for the big day started the weekend before. Actually V started earlier than that researching the preparation of the Turkey and whether or not to serve Stove Top or make homemade stuffing. In the end she decided to use a recipe for stuffing and turkey that Ed. had sent her. Everything was going along as planned. Most of the ingredients were picked up over the weekend, Bill ordered a Ham to pick up during the week and Vanessa was going to get a free Turkey from work and what wasn’t going to be cooked at home was going to be brought by guests. Everything was going great until I got a call from Vanessa on Tuesday.
I had only been at work for an hour when the rumors began gobbling through the halls. Apparently, there were problems with the turkeys- they weren’t kosher, they weren’t frozen, they weren’t coming. I didn’t know who to trust or where to turn. We had been counting on this turkey for weeks and well you know what they say, “never count your turkeys before they hatch.” Throughout the day I called Jason as the great turkey fiasco news updates waddled in. The turkeys were coming but would be raw (aren’t they supposed to be?), the turkeys had come but had been sent back, the turkeys were alive and came with adoption certificates and leashes. Finally, after I had given up on Thanksgiving and was just about to leave work, here they came in a giant red Fed-Ex out box (it’s my company’s only large object on wheels). And they were HUGE. What were promised to be 10-12 lb. Turkeys looked more like ostriches. Luckily I had a strong bag to carry it home in because they came in dinky plastic bags that broke as soon as you lifted them. So, down the elevator, out the door, on the train, on the bus, down the street and up the stairs I carried Bruce (my turkey). I made a nest for him in the refrigerator by throwing everything else away and there he stayed until Jason got home.
Vanessa has a tendency to exaggerate at times. This was not one of them. The turkey was quite large. My immediate concern was if the turkey would fit in the new pan that V just bought or if it would even defrost in time. Vanessa said it wouldn’t be a problem once we soaked it in salt water in the fridge. This brought up a new problem - finding something big enough to soak the turkey in and small enough to fit in the fridge. We ended up stuffing the turkey in a large pot and squeezing it into the fridge after removing 2 shelves. During the next 24 hours I was still concerned about it thawing but Vanessa assured me it would be okay. Wednesday night Vanessa started working on the stuffing.
I used a recipe given to me by my friend Ed. Along
with my own little touches like dried cranberries and garlic croutons.
I have to say it turned out to be the best stuffing ever despite my fear
of having never made stuffing before. Thursday
morning we woke and Jason began to clean the apartment while I prepared Bruce.
He was still frozen in the middle but after
a good bath in the sink I felt that he was ready to roast.
From the moment we stuffed him and shoved him into his too-small pot
until almost six hours later, we took turns basting him every thirty minutes.
(He swam in more than 3 sticks of
butter throughout the day.) Around
3:30 people began to
show up and we made them baste Bruce too. We
snacked on chips, raw
vegetables and dips while we waited for everyone to show and for Bruce to reach
170 degrees.
Everything that afternoon was going very well. Our guests were arriving with food. Vanessa was in the kitchen tending to the food. We had snacks and wine and it was very pleasant. Our plan was to eat around 6:00 or so but we were still waiting for Andrew and the turkey hadn’t reached its magical 170o. I had concerns about the size of the bird and how long it would take for Bruce to defrost. I had made countless pleas, days before, to leave the beast out to thaw but Vanessa and her obsession with salmonella wouldn’t have it.
Around
6:00 Andrew and Ryan had arrived and the thermometer was still hanging out at
160. V was starting to get a bit
concerned. I felt quite confident
that close to 8 hours of cooking was fine but again Vanessa and the salmonella.
Fortunately Hagen saved the day with remembering in the most recent
episode of West Wing they called the Butterball hotline to get info on turkeys.
Bill made the call and after talking to a women and performing a few test
we determined the turkey was safe to eat.
Vanessa and I went into action setting out the food, preparing the rolls and cutting the turkey. When we were close to serving time so I told Bill to coordinate the serving of food. He disappeared into his room and didn’t come back out. When I went looking for him I found him ironing the linen napkins. The food was ready and Bill was ironing the freakin napkins. I went back to check on the food and we all waited. While in the kitchen pulling out the second batch of rolls, the first batch got a little burnt, I heard crazy laughter coming from Bill’s room – Bill never turned the iron on. We waited no more and the feast began.
 |
|
It was incredible. The turkey was fantastic and the stuffing was delicious. Vanessa did an impressive job with her first try at turkey and stuffing. The rest of the evening was spent gorging then complaining about how full we were while stuffing our faces with desert. All in all we had a great time and Thanksgiving was a complete success.
