Turkey Postmortem

By now, if you hosted Thanksgiving, the increasingly wizened cartilaginous projection on the sternum of the turkey begins to remind you of Mr. Burns. Throw the damn thing in a stock pot--while it simmers, help me figure this holiday out. The phenomenon of holiday meals with Thanksgiving -- the best part is that it is about the meal, not X-Boxes, candy, or making a rare appearance at a house of worship. As a result, Thanksgiving is to cooking what New Years Eve is to going out and getting drunk -- a time when amateurs feel the need to compete with experienced pros. As a result, it seems to me that Thanksgiving offers a window into the way many Americans feel about cooking in general -- a tedious chore, fraught with peril. I was fortunate enough to grow up in a family where cooking and family meals were the rule, rather than the exception -- this year, like most, the process was relatively smooth. However, it appears to be a jungle out there:  I imagine a survey of a decade of  pre-T.giv food sections in the Times and in other papers would reveal a persistent theme of the turkey as the football Lucy holds, and Charlie Brown as the chef. "This time, it's gonna be different -- everyone will love my turkey." Witness the recent brining phenomenon: in 2003, de rigeur, in 2005, passe as a pashimina. That turkey fryer from 2001 is gathering dust in your garage next to the Razor Scooter.  I cannot think of another pursuit where a major corporation has set up a toll-free number to talk you through crises, and yet we have the Butterball Hotline. (BTW, are the people who answer the phone Canadian, or do they have Thanksgiving dinner there?) You are expected to make it though The Corrections on your own, but if you hit a snag cooking a bird, something our species has been doing for millennia, just call 1-800-BUTTERBALL. Three possible hypotheses: 1) Cooking a turkey is difficult. 2) Americans, as a rule, cannot cook. 3) The turkey is a convenient receptacle for projections of family agitas. Codland?
 

Comments

[alizinha]

My bro still does the fried turkey and it's delish. The two best things I ate for Thanksgiving were his fried turkey and my mac and cheese.

(The Costco apple pie? Not so much.)

[la_depressionada]

"codland" sounds either retarded on delusional i can't decide which.

[la_depressionada]

or OR for chrissakes.

[Rose's Lime]

I prefer Cod Nation.

We brine and smoke and turn on that Big Bad Voodoodaddy and swing like it's 2001. Makes for a great bird and amazing leftovers that keep very well what with the salt and smoke... though does render the carcass unfit for stock (try it if you like Hickory soup).

Three converging factors on the Turkey whining: (1) even dilligent home cooks rarely attempt something that takes over an hour to cook leaving a lot of room for error with the big bird (2) it is true as every article opines in its opening paragraph, that traditional methods can lead to a dry and/or tough bird and (3) we need something to talk about on a slow newsday other than the weather, security at airports, the pitiful state of the Lions and free agency filings. Call it the Turkey Industrial Complex and the Times is as in on it as the folks who make the basters.

To cross this thread with the subsequent, I applaud my brother's in-laws who see the football of Thanksgiving and stay away from the oven. Instead, they have their relatives from all over Manhattan show up with the meal of ultimate consumption - Caviar and smoked fish from Zabars, foie gras and AOC prunes from Bouley, Turkey from Dean and DeLuca. It's enough to makes you feel a little smug at having lifted a finger.

[Skeen]

My aunt has her chef credentials: Cordon Bleu-trained, has trained and cheffed in Paris, NYC, etc. Is member of Les Dames d'Escoffier, has met la Child, etc.

And this is what she reported to me about her T-day:

"I cooked my turkey by putting it in the oven and going out to  walk for 2 and 1/2hours and it was fine."

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