Thank-full-ness 11/24/2011

November 24, 2011

Eating, Holidays

As I mentioned in my last post, we purchased and prepared two turkeys for this afternoon’s feast, which was truly moveable. It moved from our house after we cooked it all, to the host’s house where we ate it all.

Well, no, where we ate a fraction of it, to be honest. Partially because we had some no-shows, but also due in part to the fact that the turkeys we got ended up being a bit larger than we had ordered.

We’d placed an order with our neighborhood co-op for two local freshly slaughtered birds. We’d hoped to get a couple of 16lb-ers. The co-op indicated that by the time we wanted to pick the birds up, the smallest we were likely to get were 18lbs. Ok, we said, we’ll have a little extra in the leftover department, why not?

When M returned home last night from picking up the birds, he was in a bit of a tizzy.

He stopped in the vestibule after closing the front door.

M: Well, we ended up with birds a little larger than we’d planned on.

Me: Oh really?

M: Yeah. About 21 lbs each.

*crickets*

M: Right. I asked why and the guy at the co-op says that they couldn’t keep them from getting any bigger.

*blank stare*

M: Apparently you have to continue to feed turkeys until they’re slaughtered, or they get angry. [channeling his best John Stewart in “god-forbid” mode] And nobody wants ANGRY TURKEYS.

.
.
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Now. What I love about this is that the guy at the co-op didn’t say something like “Well, would you really rather us starve and torture the turkeys just so they’ll stay the perfect size until we kill them for your dinner party?”.

Nope. That would have been a bit more humane, and commonsensical. Instead, we’re told that you don’t want to make the turkeys ANGRY.

Sooooo, two very large (but not angry) turkeys and a couple more hours of cooking than planned-for later, the moveable feast has been transmogrified into moveable leftovers. Enough leftovers that our refrigerator now resembles a Jenga tower of miscellaneous-sized bursting-full plastic containers, at least one stock pot full of turkey bits just shorn from the carcass, and a couple of small cheesecakes that hitched a ride home with us.

The beer that we had to remove from the fridge to make room for all the leftovers, however, is now giving us the evil eye. We must hurry up and drink it before it realizes it’s been well and truly evicted from its chilly home and gets angry.

Because nobody wants ANGRY BEER.

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