I was informed by my nurse that today is Friday. Amazing how you lose track of time in a hospital room. Anyway, I realized that I hadn’t written a blog post in a while, so I started wracking my brain for something original and interesting to write about.
It took several minutes for my brain to break out of the hospital-related topic stream of consciousness, but eventually I made my mental escape. I began thinking about Thanksgiving now less than a week away, and how Hal and I would celebrate together.
The first thing that you need to know is that, after many years of failed attempts, that I’ll never try to turkey again. Each time turned out to be a disaster and the bird got thrown out.
I worked from the recipe my Mom gave me many years ago. The turkeys she cooked always came out on the dry side. To this day, I dislike moist turkey. I would prep the turkey or turkey breast, put it into a paper bag (Mom’s secret) and then place that into the roasting pan and put it into the oven for the required amount of time, plus a little extra.
The hours would pass until the recipe called for me to remove the lid from the roasting pan, rip open the paper bag covering the turkey, and then returning the turkey to the oven for the final round of cooking that would insure the dry texture. Something always went wrong at this point for me. The turkey never dried. Fortunately it never caught fire either. I wonder if something was written down wrong all those years ago? Each year I would try to make a subtle change to correct things, but it never worked out. That is when I gave up on cooking a turkey myself.
Ever since then, I’ve freed my mind and made whatever I wanted for Thanksgiving. Since Hal and I have been together, we’ve celebrated with chicken, or steak, or pork, or my personal favorite, salmon. It isn’t the Thanksgiving turkey meal that makes the holiday, it it is the meal that you share with loved ones that makes Thanksgiving special.