Monthly Archive for December 2009
thanksgiving, by both of us
Well, folks: we did it! You’ve been cheering us along—Kevin and I—as we prepared to host our first Thanksgiving, so I figured it was only fair that we gave you a glimpse of how the whole thing went down. Kevin and I have put together a list of lessons learned—a how-to, of sorts, for first time Thanksgiving hosts. And so, we bring you a list of five tips for first-time hosts, along with Kevin’s and my take on each tip.
Tip # 1: Keep in Mind that Giblets are a Two-Person Job.
Kevin: When I heard that we were getting a special all-natural heritage bird I was obviously all for it. Natural, local, let’s do it. When I heard the price I figured this bird was all-inclusive, whatever that meant. We picked it up at the Evanston Farmer’s Market and were a bit surprised when we were given a rock hard frozen 10 pound mass. Wait a second. We could have gotten a frozen butterball for $3.99. Anyway, we got over that initial disappointment and thawed the bird and it was finally time to clean it. Now, Kristin is pretty self-sufficient in the kitchen. I usually am only allowed near the dishes and the finished goods, which is just fine by me. But I was finally called into duty, because this heritage bird was indeed all-inclusive. And by all-inclusive I mean heart, kidneys, livers (how many livers does a turkey have? 6?), neckbone, etc. About 2 hours later it was all completely gutted and snipped, including a final surprise: the gobbler, saggy and heritage-d.
Kristin: You need one person (Kevin) to slip the bird out of its packaging, peer inside the cavity and report his findings to the other person (Kristin). You need one person (Kevin) to gingerly pull out each of the giblets, which in our case were not conveniently located in a tidy bag but instead floating free inside the turkey’s cavity; meanwhile the other person (Kristin) holds open a giant garbage bag, providing moral support as the giblet-remover (again, this is Kevin) drops one organ after another into the bag. In our case, the giblet remover (I’m pretty sure you’ve got this by now: Kevin) did his best to identify the parts as they dropped into the bag, each landing with a heavier thud than the last. Shamefully, reader, our giblets then went directly into the dumpster out back in the alley (thanks to Kevin) and a calming glass of wine was poured (thanks to Kristin). I know, I know that the giblets could have made their way into various Thanksgiving dishes. Maybe by the time we host a second time, we’ll be brave enough to actually use the giblets. And maybe we’ll figure out how to make their removal a one-person (Kevin) job.