Throw Another Turkey on the Barbie
Last week was Thanksgiving. A yearly tradition that celebrates food. I know that the origins are somewhat different and loosely related to pilgrims and native americans, but let’s be honest: it’s about food. After the failure that was Thanksgiving UK 2008, I decided to try for a new, improved sequel with Thanksgiving Australia 2009.
Here was the menu:
Turkey & box stuffing (just add water)
Cranberry sauce (store bought)
Spinach balls (family favorite)
Roasted Maple Sweet Potato
Green Bean Casserole with Breadcrumbs
Mid-morning, I felt the foolishness of my decision as I had to change to shorts and a tank top after opening all of the doors to let in the breeze. You don’t take Thanksgiving out of America because it’s just too hot.
The only near-disaster occured when I transferred the defrosted turkey to the sink, leaving a trail of watered down blood splattered across the floor. Stifling my gag reflex, I reached into the turkey carcass and pulled out the neck and giblets. At least what I thought was the neck and giblets, because, even after googling it, I’m not entirely sure what giblets are. I stuffed the turkey, covered it with foil, and put it on the barbecue, where it sat roasting for nearly four hours.
By the time we ate at seven, I wasn’t even that hungry, though the dogs were much appreciative to be the recipients of the mangled turkey corpse. This holiday is officially out of my system and chances of Thanksgiving South Korea 2010 are highly unlikely.
Judging by the jolly Santa in the shopping center and the twinkling lights going up around town, it is nearly Christmas. I can’t make this gel with my pre-existing notions of Christmas, because it is just too nice outside. Is it really snowing in other parts of the world? One thing’s for sure. I won’t be cooking a turkey.