Mom showed me how to roast turkey with stuffing when I was a kid, and I've never strayed from her method. I’m not so good at trussing the legs and wings; they’re always splayed and a bit overcooked. But I’m a diligent baster. The bird was beautiful on Thursday, and aromatic with rosemary as I pulled it out of the right side of the Custom Deluxe. Our dinner crowd was lively, fun and approving. The only thing missing, we all agreed, was the distinctive sound of the electric carving knife.
Post-dinner entertainment was a hodgepodge YouTube selection: The Ross Sisters c. 1944, Charlie the Unicorn, a chimpanzee debke, The Italian Elvis and other wonders projected on an oversized flat screen—much better than football. Friday and Saturday were happily filled with hiking and a meandering car adventure to one little Catskills hamlet after another—punctuated by two dozen cider donuts, cocktails with our charming neighbor, and two separate takes on leftovers, one sophisticated and one pedestrian, but both delicious. Today, it was back to the city and to the freezer with four containers of turkey stock.
[sigh]
Onward to Christmas goose.
No comments:
Post a Comment