Let's Talk Turkey

So this Thanksgiving I ate turkey.

I know, way to get crazy, right?

But this was the first Thanksgiving in years that I didn't subsist on side-dishes.

When I mentioned to a few people that I was going to eat turkey this year, they all warned me to "be careful" because they thought it would be really hard on my body to suddenly start eating meat again.

I found this strange because it's not like I was going to gorge myself on turkey. Of all the meat-items that I've really truly missed, turkey honestly hasn't been that high up on the list. It definitely ranks below greasy cheeseburgers and crispy bacon. (Although maybe that is somewhat psychological since beef and pork are forboden due to allergies and poultery is just a personal choice...).

So as I've mentioned before, I have serious qualms about the meat industry in this country and the only reason I was eating a bird at all was because it was a free-range turkey raised by a local organic farmer. This is not because I am a liberal elitist snob (although I can see why someone might make that accusation) but it is because I don't like the idea of torturing animals before we kill them and I think can safely assume that this particularly turkey was as happy as a turkey can be for the duration of its life. The fact that it was never frozen and therefore supposedly tastes better was lost on me because I haven't tasted any turkey for so many years that I am not sure I'd know the difference.

Anyway, I was still slightly skeeved by certain things. Like there was a vein that you can see through the skin of the raw turkey and the idea of eating veins makes me want to hurl. Also during turkey-prep time David was shoving his entire forearm up in the turkey's insides and pulling out internal organs (organs that my mother actually suggested we cook and feed to the dogs--this was before we took away the crack pipe she must have been smoking). Then David was stretching all the skin around which was pretty nasty.

Ew.

And then he thought it was funny to shake the wings at me as though the turkey was dancing.

Seriously, he thought it was really funny. See how much fun he is having? Must haven taken up my mom's crack pipe.

In spite of the traumatic prep-work (and by "work," I mean "observing from bar stool while drinking wine") and some debate over cooking temperatures and appropriate cooking time, I managed to eat some turkey on Thanksgiving.

And it was good.

Don't it look good? Yeah, it do.

I've even been eating the leftover turkey in enchiladas and I had a sandwich and a turkey roll up. (It was a nearly 16 pound turkey--we had LOTS of leftovers.) And we went ahead and boiled up what was left of it to make turkey stock that we will use for cooking.

Was it worth the price per pound?

Well, if you're only eating turkey once a year, I think that such a splurge can be justified.

Was it so delicious that I wish I could eat turkey every day?

I think I'm perfectly content to be a vegetarian most of the time.

(I think this surprises some people, who must assume that vegetarians constantly feel deprived, thus prompting them to warn me not to over-indulge myself by eating copious amounts of dead bird in one sitting.)

So turkey for Thanksgiving seems to be a pretty good idea after all. Looks like this Thanksgiving propaganda might have the right idea after all. In fact, I just might try it again next year.