Giganturkey

In my last post, I mentioned ordering a turkey for our Thanksgiving dinner. I went on and on about how it needed to be a small turkey so that it would fit in our euro-sized oven. I spoke too soon.

On Thursday I rode my bike to the farmers' market to pick up the turkey. I had my empty backpack and was ready to bring home a bird. I'd had paincky thoughts that maybe they'd forgotten, that there would be no turkey and we'd have to eat sausages for Thanksgiving.

When I told the lady at the poultry stand that I'd come for the whole turkey, she said "I have it, (whew) but there's a problem." If she had it, what could the problem be? Was it a mutant turkey? Did it get run over by a tractor? Had her dog taken a bite out of it? Did it have three legs? no wings? was it still covered in feathers?  How does a three-legged turkey walk around, anyway/

"You ordered a 5 kilo turkey, but it's actually 10 kilos. We will only charge you the 5 kilo price." 10 kilos is 22 lbs. That's enough turkey for a horde of starving pilgirms. It was enough for 1 kilo of turkey for each of our dinner guests. While a huge half price turkey is a great thing, this was sort of a problem. "But I don't think it will fit in my oven," I said, then realized I was complaining about a massive half-priced turkey and decided to keep my mouth shut. I didn't know what had happened - were all their turkeys that huge? Was it an unexpected growth spurt? Did the little turkeys get used for cold cuts? She didn't explain.

When I took out the backpack, ready to transport the bird in style, the turkey lady said, "but I don't think it will fit in there." Thankfully it did. I held the backpack open while she pushed the bird inside it.  I zipped up the bag, loaded the Giganturkey on my back and got on the bike. It may sound ridiculous to carry a massive turkey in a backpack while riding a bicycle through the city, but that's what I did. Keeping my balance as I rode had to be the strangest abdominal workout I've ever done.

I didn't want to cut the legs or the wings off, and thought I'd have a chance of fitting the turkey in if it was tied up tight. Happy turkeys from the market don't come with a little wire thing to hold the legs down or a pop-up timer. They let it all hang out. And of course, we didn't have any string. Luckily, Brian had an old pair of sweat pants with a broken drawstring. So I cut it out of the pants and used it to tie the wings and legs tightly against the body, put the rack on the floor of the oven, and loaded the bird in diagonally. Miraculously, the Giganturkey fit. It's a good thing it wasn't a three-legged turkey. I don't think the drawstring could have stretched around all those drumsticks.

Five hours later, the Giganturkey was ready. It was fantastically juicy and delicious. And after eating a lot, giving some away, and freezing some more, it still is.

Our Thanksgiving dinner crowd

Sankey, Brian with turkey leg, Jake

Andrew and baby Juno, 3 months

Viola and Ulla