Or, The Crazy-Eyed Peacock Octo-Turkey Bandit Finds a Home
So. Thanksgiving happened. Time to put the food where my braggy mouth is. Photos, confessions, and plenty o' dorkwads, ahoy!
If there's anything better than homemade piecrust, it's husbandmade homemade piecrust.
I asked Jason to provide a recipe, and he said it's something like this one, only different, and he went on and on about the importance of apple choices and using the perfect variety and his various tweaks to the topping (oatmeal) but you know, he wasn't 100% happy with the topping this year because it was a too crunchy and NEXT YEAR he's going to try such and such and zzzzzzzzz.
Same goes for the stuffing. I mean, we barely have enough for two people here. BARELY.
Cauliflower and broccoli, pre-cheesified. This concludes the healthy portion of our meal.
OMG! The sweet potatoes don't have a serving spoon! Don't take a photo yet! People will think we are savages! Good thing I spent no less than five whole minutes combing through our leftover sage for a single perfectly shaped and photogenic leaf to put on top of them! I think I may have just singlehandedly saved Thanksgiving.
And now, I must talk about the turkey. Which, for all of my Big Talk about my thumpingly good track record with Thanksgiving turkeys, turned out HORRIBLY. Like, the worst turkey ever. Two reasons, only one of which was kind of my fault, but NOT REALLY.
1) Despite ordering our turkey directly from a local farm like every
year, we figured we'd save ourselves a trip to the actual farm and
arranged to pick it up at the farmer's market. Unfortunately, we didn't
realize that D.C. law meant that the turkey HAD to arrive at the market
frozen, no matter what. And once you've tasted the difference between a
frozen bird and a never-frozen fresh one, well...you become a Turkey
Snob, is what happens.
2) AND despite making approximately five separate grocery store runs throughout the week, we* forgot to pick up another turkey essential: the little plastic pop-up timer doohickey thing. Our turkey didn't come with one and of course, our back-up fancy digital probe thermometer chose Thursday OF ALL DAYS to malfunction and we completely overcooked the stupid thing, torn between the 10-minutes-per-pound-math and the alarmingly low temperature reading. We opted to maybe not risk salmonella. Result: dry, shoe-leather turkey that I actively despised and spent most of the meal complaining about.
Oh wait, and also, 3) maybe: We** also forgot to buy more aluminum foil, leading to a panicked discovery mid-cooking when it was time to tent the bird and oh shit! We have no foil! Quick, raid the leftovers in the fridge and cobble together not-quite-enough from some pizza slices and Indian food delivery. While that probably wasn't the WORST thing to happen to the turkey, it certainly didn't help.
But, still. The side dishes were amazing, the wine was...present and plentiful and Jason managed to make a fairly outstanding turkey salad out of the ruined bird AND we still were able to make enough turkey stock to see us through the next year. Liquid gold, as it is known around these parts, guaranteed to camouflage mediocre recipes and cooking skillz for MONTHS.
Plus I also finally found a use for all those extra breastmilk storage bags I had lying around.
EVERYBODY SMILE AND REFRAIN FROM DIVING HEADFIRST INTO THE NEAREST CASSEROLE DISH UNTIL AFTER THE FLASH GOES OFF.
*Jason did the shopping.
**Although as the person responsible for making up the shopping list, I am fully aware of who is the true guilty party. Clearly, it's the Shopping List iPhone app. Way to almost ruin Thanksgiving, TECHNOLOGY.