Sorry, Dead Turkey

So, Thanksgiving is all about the food.

Christmas is more about the music for me. I mean, there is food there, too (mince pie, here I come!), but the music and the general feeling of goodwill define the Christmas season. But Thanksgiving... bring on the turkey and stuffing. And sweet potatoes. And cranberry sauce. And rolls. (We'll have dessert later.)

So, my turkey is currently roasting in the oven. Why? Well, we want to have "the meal" for lunch, but we're running a Turkey Trot at 9 AM, and there is nothing on this earth that will convince me that it is a good idea to turn on the oven and then leave the house for an hour. So, I'm cooking the turkey the night before. I've read that you can reheat precooked turkey in the oven, but my answer to that is: Hello! I have a microwave!

Once the turkey is done, I have to cook the cornbread, because it has to sit out overnight and get stale so I can use it for the stuffing. Except I don't stuff the turkey, so I think it is technically called dressing. Or something. Anyway, that stuff with breadcrumbs in it? I have to make the cornbread first. And I gotta tell ya, I got my current dressing recipe off the internet a couple of years ago, and it is fan-tab-u-lous. It's a lot of work, but totally worth it a couple of times a year.

So this is my sixth Thanksgiving turkey. The first year I did it, I didn't know about taking out the neck and giblets ahead of time, so after it was done cooking, I was all, "What's this paper bag in the turkey?" Now that I think about it, this may be the first year that I remembered to take out the neck before cooking. And I probably wouldn't have thought about it, except I had the remains of a whole chicken sitting in my kitchen, so I tossed the neck into the pot to make "chicken" broth. I guess it's poultry broth now.

I don't really like cooking meat at the best of times-- it tends to leave a greasy film on my glasses (and, presumably, the rest of me as well)-- but it is extra sad when I can hold it up by the wings and lead it in a little dance in my sink before putting it into its pan. I have no actual conscience qualms about eating animals, but I do have to block from my mind the fact that it used to have a face. And cartoons are not my friend here, since it may well have also had a voice and personality. I'll try not to think about Chicken Run while enjoying dead bird tomorrow.