Thanksgiving: The Aftermath

I haven't blogged in a month because I've been planning for Thanksgiving for a month (among other things; more on that later). I had initially planned to do this whole before-and-after series in the style of Anderson Cooper (I love you. Marry me. Really). However, things happen the way that they always do, so I'm writing about it now, more like the second graders who do the news report before classes start over the intercom.

I cannot even blame the DH for this one, although he will certainly be held accountable for his minor role. For you see, I was the one who said "we're going to do Turducken".

For those of you who are not avid readers of foodie blogs, or have never seen Paula Dean's Thanksgiving episode (no one plays cards like that. no one.), a Turducken is a chicken inside of a duck inside of a turkey, with stuffing in between each layer. While this idea has been attributed to many chefs, Chef Paul Prudhomme is generally credited for its creation. The finished pictures of a good looking Turducken are quite a sight, really, for the avid carnivore. And of course, there are modern variations with tofu, unpronounceable bacon-wrapped monstrosities, etc.

This was to be a simple task. Get a turkey, duck, and chicken. Make some stuffing. Stuff stuffing in turkey, duck and chicken; then stuff chicken inside of duck inside of turkey. Roast for a very long time.

Did I mention that all three birds needed to be deboned? And that most of the recipes suggest 12 HOURS for roasting time?

Deboning, piece of cake. In fact, DH and I got TWO chickens from Sam's just so we could practice. One night before Thanksgiving around 10 pm, he says to me "let's watch a video and learn how to debone the chicken". Ok, so we did that. We watched three videos, as a matter of fact. Feeling quite confident, we marched into the kitchen. I said "I'll debone it, since I'll probably have to do it for real anyway". And he said "great, I'll supervise".

(Imagine, dear reader, a great wall of silence here. Followed by me tightening my grip around the knife until my fingers went white).

Perhaps this part of the story would be best left out, but the deboning was not pretty. We mutilated that poor chicken. If it could have picked up its innards and made a run for it, I'm sure we'd have seen it dashing out the door. I tried to cut but ended up slicing through meat. DH decided to step in and "fix it". I slammed the knife down and cursed. Lots. And then I left. We ate homemade chicken nuggets for dinner. As DH cleaned his plate, he says quite casually "maybe someone else should debone the birds." YOU THINK?

So I called the high-end grocery store about 40 miles north (because there is not much high end in "Slocala") and asked them. Nope, they don't debone. Or, maybe they did, but I couldn't understand the butcher's broken English, so that was that. Butcher two, no dice, and so on. Five places I called. Now, I panic, because I've told PEOPLE that we are having Turducken. And I can't let PEOPLE down. Finally, I call Publix, our local average grocery store chain. And of course, they'll do it, for free. I love Publix.

So we pick up the birds a few days before, to brine them. And not only has the butcher deboned them, but he did so from the inside out. He basically took the skin and meat off like a sleeve, not cutting the birds at all. If I ever decide on a hobby, I totally want to learn how to do that. Or not, that sounds a little psycho.

So, tis the night before Thanksgiving and all through the house, it's crammed with cans and veggies and potatoes and bread and decorations and boxes of stock and juice and you name it. I had my own grocery store in the dining room. So I started on a few of the sides (we ended up with 8 total, I think) and then I made the first stuffing (because we can't just use one stuffing. Oh no. That would be sane. Three different stuffings. Soooooo stupid). And then we prepare to stuff.

I've never really stuffed a bird before. I mean, I've put a little stuffing in, but usually with a spoon. Spoons do not really maneuver well inside of a duck inside of a turkey. No matter how many pictures you see of a Turducken online, they NEVER show you a girl freaked by raw poultry juices with her arm stuck halfway inside of three birds. It was vulgar.

As soon as the bird was in the oven, I went to bed. We decided to roast it in the oven overnight (about 6 hours) and then smoke it for the other 6 on the big grill. Of course, when we got up in the morning, it was done.

Done.

And so am I. Dinner went fine. The family only drove me a little crazy, but my favorite aunt-in-law and best friend helped me with the dishes, and everything but the pecan pie came out well. Even the turducken.

Would you like to know what we are having for Christmas?

Ham sandwiches.