Freddy and I would like to wish everyone a very Happy Thanksgiving. We have a lot to be thankful for. We have good friends' family who love us; a nice home and good food. We're very thankful that Aunt Pat made a big turkey, in a roasting pan that was a little too small. We're also very thankful that it was such a warm day, that Aunt Pat and Daddy could open the windows to let the smoke from the bird drippings falling onto the electric heat element, out of the house.
Daddy loves leftovers, so he ordered a 24 and a half pound turkey. Freddy and I knew it would be a good bird. The minute Aunt Pat walked through the door with it, Freddy stuffed his snout in the bag to sniff it, and I sniffed it from the other end. It smelled so good! Aunt Pat knew it was a little big, but she thought the pan would be big enough, and some aluminum foil placed beneath the roasting pan, would catch any drips. It didn't. That gave me, err, Freddy and me the chance to help clean up. I've been helping Aunt Pat all week licking the floor, err, cleaning the floor when she was baking the pies.
We're sorry if some of the photos are blurry, we were moving around a lot to make sure the kitchen stayed as clean as possible.
Finally, the turkey finished cooking. Actually, Aunt Pat was not at all happy at how long the bird took to cook. Aunt Pat had read one of her late mother's cookbooks which said that a stuffed turkey of that weight would take anywhere from 7 to 9 hours to cook. But then, the Buffalo News had a column that said to multiply the weight of the bird by 15, 15 minutes a pound at 325 degrees, unstuffed, which gave her about 6 and a quarter hours. Aunt Pat doesn't stuff her turkeys, because a few years ago somebody said it could make people sick if the turkey and dressing didn't cook long enough. Being an anal-retentive ex-ICU nurse, Aunt Pat is all about not making people sick. So, Aunt Pat and Daddy were expecting the bird to be finished, if she put it in the oven at 5:30am, by around 11:30 or 11:45am, instead of 1:30pm. It wasn't. She kept taking it out and putting it back in, checking the temperature, moving the leg to see if it would budge, but it didn't. Aunt Pat was not happy, because she had timed the dressing, the potatoes and corn to be done by that time as well. I have not heard foul language like that from her mouth in a while. Turkeys hatch, and they don't really know their mothers, let alone do that with them. I took her for a walk around the block so she could cool off. Daddy watched the bird to be sure nothing else happened.
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Daddy tested some of the breast meat, and it looked done, so he carved the turkey. Thankfully he dropped a couple of pieces so Freddy and I each had some.
Even though the breast meat was mostly done, the dark meat, Daddy's favorite, wasn't quite finished. He wasn't upset, though. So, after dinner, Aunt Pat put the rest of the dark meat back in the oven until it was cooked. Freddy and I were pretty tired, so we made sure Aunt Pat had some quiet time on the sofa to relax. Freddy and I even curled up in her lap for a while.
Aunt Pat learned a lesson, though. Always trust mom's old cookbooks, and get a roasting pan bigger than the bird.
