It was the year for the Christmas Turkey. We had ham/turkey for Thanksgiving, but it wasn't at our house, so leftovers don't make it for those who just happened to attend. We decided we would cook at Christmas, and since we just have one son and daughter in law at home and grandson and a niece, the wife bought a small turkey (ten pounds ) to go with corn-noodle casserole, cornbread dressing, mashed potatoes, etc...
The main thing was to get the turkey in the oven, that way clearing the stove for all of the other dishes.
When I got it out of the plastic freezer bag, (it was thawed) I noticed that the legs weren't tied together, and it sort of leaned to the right, and it just looked strange. It was a ten pounder. I put flour in the bag, put celery and onions, tied the bag, poked it full of six holes and slid it into the three hundred ninety degree oven.
I pulled it out at two and a half hours, let it stand for a half hour, then started to cut the bird up. The legs were falling off, so I pulled them and the wings and made a little pile of meat on the serving platter. Then I started with a sharp knife and I cut down the breast line, and as I went down I had the weird sensation that I had the "Christmas Vacation" turkey, that looked exactly like this turkey and I felt as if I had been incarnated by Chevy Chase, and the movie was playing out in my head. I even stopped and turned to the wife and the neice and had them look. I was shocked. There was a few moments of a horrible breakdown coming over me as I started to figure out what we could feed this crew instead of the promised turkey. We all stood there in amazement because what little bit of turkey was on the platter wouldn't feed the grandson. Then it hit me.
I reached down, pulled the hot Turkey out of the juice and flipped it over. Aha! The knife revealed breast meat so white and tender, and amply enough to get us through the meal.
Whew. Saved again.
Ralph Peck
Photo of Last Years Turkey
Claremore, Oklahoma
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