 Comedy: November 24, 2021 Issue [#11073] |
This week: Squawks and Gobbles Edited by: Ẃeβ࿚ẂỉԎḈĥ  
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Happy Thanksgiving folks! It is I, your WDC “Witchy one” reporting from my southern Command Center in sunny South Florida. |
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Preparations are underway for the upcoming feast. I found a plump and juicy turkey weighing in at 25 pounds, and have all the trimmings necessary to make it a memorable Thanksgiving dinner.
I plan on putting the big bird into the oven at around midnight-thirty, giving it a quick heat attack on higher oven temp and then lowering it down to 180 for the remainder of the night. It will promise to be a juicy turkey by the time it hits the table. At least it will be if all goes well doing the exact same turkey baking as last Thanksgiving.
It wasn’t always and easy undertaking when I started snow-birding and celebrating the holiday down South. When in New England, I cook with gas. In fact I have a huge commercial stove oven that could easily fit two 25 pounder’s side by side. Cooking with gas has always been my preference. Unfortunately, it’s all electric in my Florida place. Getting used to the differences took some time. But I have learned over the years that to have an enjoyable easy celebration, it is best to set it and forget it in the low and slow overnight temperature.
Memories of Thanksgiving remind me of families gathering together, small children running amok in the house and finding a circle to place run and chase. I imagine most parents out there who’ve had doorways leading from a kitchen to den to dining room circle for traffic in the house know what I’m talking about. Outdoors is best for kids, right? Sure, if it’s not snowing or freezing making kid’s lips turn purple. Making snowmen has always been a great option, but, they can’t really do that while wearing holiday dress clothes. So, it’s toss a bunch of toys on a playroom floor and shut off the circle-back path that leads to trouble.
All these memories bring me to a Thanksgiving Story of years ago. Enjoy, folks – and please don’t attempt to try this at home. YOU have been warned. Don’t blame me if you experience odd kick-back from not cooking your turkey thoroughly. Just sayin’ the story is all in fun. That aside:
This particular Thanksgiving nightmare took place when I realized one of my turkeys had been stolen off my back porch, aka autumn auxiliary refrigeration system. I also noticed bear footprints leading away from the porch, however, that’s another strange story. It was the day before the big feast, when scores of people were expected for dinner. I threw on my clothes and headed to the local store hoping to find the stray turkey or two left in the cooler.
I was not shocked to find out that only slim pickings in the plucked feathered friend department remained for my purchase. Thus, I resolved to try other stores for just the right sized, plump, and perfect turkey to add next to its comrade on the dinner table. Twenty minutes later, at store number four, I found the one. It was a pleasing, portly poultry, holiday treat, just waiting for me to take it home. The turkey was way at the bottom and looked like it was over twenty pounds, The label seemed faded from lying under all the first turkeys to go over the past several days. So, that’s it? My story ends? No, of course not! My lovely turkey, re-weighed and priced at the meat counter, all luscious twenty-four pounds of it, was still frozen solid. There was no way this birdzilla was going to thaw out overnight.
Mama’s got a plan!
After hours of giving that creature a cold-water bath to coax it to thaw, I had a flash of genius. I cautiously approached the great hot pot, about to be slow cooker, quick thaw device,-- the hot tub! I thought carefully about my next step. Could I actually pull this devious plan off without poisoning my guests? Oh, what’s a little stomach ache among friends, right?
It’s three a.m. and under the cover of darkness, I crept over to the hot tub and turned on those jets. I hoped I would not wake up the house while I attempted to try the unusual turkey recipe that was made up as I went along. I placed “Tom” into a fishnet I had used as a pool house decoration and then tossed it into the warm rushing waters. Hey, I figured the plastic covering around the turkey would act as one of those oven bake bags that were all the rage at the time. Meanwhile, not to let all those inviting warm jets go to waste, I joined the turkey in the hot tub. It was lovely! I held a rum spiked eggnog in my hand and just relaxed and let the pool of warmth do its thing.
In approximately one hour, the turkey looked a little sweated and ready for step number two. I dried off and walked over to the other side of the hot tub and pulled that poultry filled fishnet straight out of the warm bath. It seemed surprisingly lighter than when it went into the water.
I quietly returned to the kitchen, the place where every good hostess would find herself in the wee hours of the morning of Thanksgiving. I carefully unwrapped the turkey in the sink and gave it a good wash. I removed the formerly frozen objects from its cavity, and gave the great warm bird a thorough rinsing. The dinner-to-be looked pretty comfortable and ready for stuffing. I made a delicious chestnut, cranberry stuffing, with chopped onions, croutons, and a nice hunk of Irish Butter. It was sautéed with love and shoved into that roomy cavity. It was getting close to five o’clock in the morning by now, and just a perfect time to get both turkeys into the extra large oven. I could differentiate between the two birds because one had meat stuffing and my “quick thaw” recipe had chestnut stuffing.
I set the oven to 300 degrees, and headed off to bed for a few hours. Wow, that eggnog was certainly doing its job. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow from all that hot tubbing and rum.
Morning came softly and smelled so divinely wonderful. Is there anything better than the smell of roasting turkey on Thanksgiving morning? I checked the oven to see how all my labor from the earlier hours fared. The “special roast” looked marvelous. I was satisfied that I pulled off the magic defrost recipe without a hitch.
Later that day, surrounded by all those fabulous accompaniments, the guests sat down for the holiday feast. The blessing said at the table by some unsuspecting guest, had a bizarrely special meaning to me. The carver carved, and the guests pleaded for more.
I started noticing that more people were favoring the hot tub turkey over the original roast. My curiosity took over; I decided to try some for myself. After all, we were all in this together, right? Surprisingly, this turkey was the moistest, sweetest, bird I have ever tasted.
Friends and relatives asked me what I did differently to that particular turkey to make it so yummy. I told them that it was my very special recipe that could never, ever be divulged.
That stays between us, okay?
Have a safe and deliciously marvelous Thanksgiving, folks. And happy holidays ahead!  
Until next time—laugh hard, laugh often!
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Elfin Dragon-finally published 
I love your "funny" about the stereo timer. In truth, I never knew stereos had timers. But then I've always had the "old, fuddy, duddy" type stereos. 
It was a classic Aiwa Stereo, 7 cd playing disc drive.  I could put it on random individual cds or random among all discs and be surprised. Speaking of another surprise from one of these sleep-timer-alarm set-ups ...One day I had the stereo on while doing chores, and then turned it off when dinner was ready, I went to bed that night and started to fall asleep when I heard a blaring "I shot the sheriff," at midnight-thirty. Thankfully the kids slept through it, but hubby awakened startled and confused. Yup, I pushed another button.  
Thanks for your feedback, Elfin Dragon! 
See you next month, folks!
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