A Thanksgiving Day Tale

The golden bird is ready. Its heady aroma fills the house. The traditional seating order is respected. Children at their tiny table, teens at card tables set up in the den, PawPaw, NaNa, Uncle Lester, Aunt Erma and other dignitaries take their place of honor at the dining room table, poised to ravage Ben Franklin’s choice for our Nation’s symbol: the glorious turkey.

Dad parades the plattered star of today’s show to its final perch amid the “oohs” and “aahs” of the hungry crowd. Carving set at the ready, Dad begins his annual duty. Uncertain thoughts fill his head: Did we cook it long enough, short enough, hot enough? I hope it’s not dry again? Do we have enough gravy this year?

The knife is raised. Dad makes the first incision along the bird’s breast as his forehead begins to glisten. He wipes his brow with his cardigan’s cuff. What will be revealed? Turkey dust? Something no amount of gravy can undo? Or will it be juicy slivers of roasted goodness that will star in the center of the plate today and as one of the year’s best sandwiches tomorrow? (White bread, mayonnaise, black pepper, turkey and plain potato chips please. No exceptions!)

This story can have one of two endings:

1. The bird is bone dry. Countless Heimlich maneuvers can’t help Aunt Erma, paramedics are called, and football is interrupted. The day is a flop at best. Maybe someone else should be in charge of the turkey next year?
   
2. Succulent, moist and juicy are the words bantered about the table. “How do you do it? My turkey is never this juicy!” is said throughout the day. Belts are unbuckled to make room for seconds. And prime couch space is full of sleepy relatives. Let me tell you how to consistently achieve result #2 (the succulent, moist and juicy parts anyway.):

• Use a brining solution.
• Protect the breast.
• Use a calibrated thermometer.
• Let the turkey rest.

See the recipe for Apple/Citrus Brined Turkey