Talking Turkey
It’s Thanksgiving, but where’s the liver?
Holiday memories grow over the years, providing some of our most treasured thoughts of the past. “Talking turkey,” Patricia Finn looks back at her Thanksgiving traditions in this “From Our Readers” essay.
Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays because I love to cook and eat Thanksgiving food. When I was growing up, my family split the holiday celebrations and my mother had the Thanksgiving assignment. She told me to watch how she prepared the turkey because one day that is what I would be doing. She was right. In my adult family life, the Thanksgiving holiday was my time to prepare a meal for visiting relatives. Now, I visit my children’s homes, but that doesn’t keep me out of the kitchen.
My favorite part of preparing a turkey dinner is to fry up the liver and eat it while the turkey roasts. Last holiday season there were some complications. Eager to begin the roasting process, I entered my daughter’s kitchen, took authoritative possession of the uncooked bird, but couldn’t find the liver. I found the neck, but … but where is the bag with the giblets?
For those who may not know, “giblets” is the polite word for the liver, heart, and other rejected body parts. My hand went in, my hand came out. No giblet bag. Other side. Hand in, hand out. Ditto the same. Okay, folks what’s going on here? I want my turkey liver.
Even more embarrassing would be to roast the turkey with the liver still in the bag (not something that has ever happened to me). Two independent turkey inspectors were called to the scene and the verdict was the same. No giblet bag. I am not sure why, but okay, it is agreed that there is no (sob) liver for this grandma to cook and enjoy. Life has its disappointments, but with determination I moved forward.
The next step was to brine the turkey. Brine? If my son is reading this, he will smile. He was the first in our family to discover the now-essential brining process. Being novices, my daughter purchased a brine kit. This kit gives the novice a large plastic bag, a packet of brining powder, a packet of seasoning for after the brine, and, best of all, directions. After some extended debate as to what is 15 x 15 divided by 60, we reached an agreed-upon cooking time.
Then we located a bucket and started the brine. The bag goes in the bucket, (“Dear Liza, Dear Liza”) two gallons of liquid are added, next comes the powder, and, oops, let’s not forget the turkey. This all goes into the fridge overnight and it is extraordinarily heavy. Are you taking notes? Well don’t. We left Mr. Turkey in the brine too long, but no one will notice.
On Thanksgiving Day, El Tomadore was lovingly rubbed spa-style with soft butter, then the herb packet, and voila – into the oven, which he unfortunately had to share with baked mac & cheese.
Hours later, we are still unsure of how many (15 pounds at 15 minutes?), it was Turkey Time and this grandma loves to make the gravy. My daughter mashed the potatoes. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. We are very, very grateful.
Patricia Finn writes FINNICKY, a weekly blog for seniors. She has been published in senior publications in New Hampshire, Montana, and Florida. Finn is an Amazon Author and a Goodreads Author and has served as a workshop host for the National Center for Family Literacy. She was syndicated with Senior Wire syndication and authored “Walking With My Foot In My Mouth.” Learn more and follow FINNICKY at PatriciaFinn.com.
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