Listening to speeches is hard for frozen turkeys, on account of their having lost the ability to nod their heads in agreement.
Luckily, the Morton's are very familiar with their condition, so they don't feel too bad when they receive zero applause.
Turkey No. 29.6 is much larger than the rest of the birds in the freezer bay. He was especially moved by the part about "being one with the brine," and is currently practicing his mediation so that he will be ready for his last bath ever.
It is a little known fact that turkeys also have elections.
This year they had a chance to make duck the traditional poultry served, but a little over half of them voted for turkeys on the basis of 'making turkey great again.'
They didn't regret their decisions until the very end.
To be completely honest, none of them can remember exactly what that one turkey said, but he seemed like a charismatic fellow who tells it like it is.
Sorry I forgot to hashtag that one for the folks who are trying to avoid turkey politics.
Β―\_(γ)_/Β―
I keep a Turkey Captain's Log that tracks everything I have ever done to every turkey since Gary. Gary himself was not logged, but that's mostly because the crafty f*cker made me sign an NDA first.
In case you're wondering, yes. #TheSagaofGary definitely violates Gary's NDA, but it was a calculated risk.
His legal representation sucks. I mean, they're all turkeys. Β―\_(γ)_/Β―
I'm trying to decide when exactly to pick up this year's bird. I'm thinking either later tonight or very early tomorrow.
The longer I wait, the bigger the risk. I'm sure there are plenty of birds, but they're probably part of a secret turkey underground that has them whispering secrets for how to sabotage Thanksgiving.
Turkey No. 14.6 just told Turkey No. 12.1 that if he's really quick about it, he can hurl a chunk of carrot directly at the oven's "bake" button, thereby turning off the oven.
14.6 is sure that this would give them enough time to escape before being cooked to their second demise, but 12.1 is pretty sure that 14.6 is completely full of shit.
(In case you forgot, they don't have names yet, so they refer to each other by number of pounds.)
Some of these arguments would definitely come to blows, you know. If they weren't tightly wrapped in industrial food packaging and confined to their risque yellow plastic netting.
These two will go on and on back and forth like this until someone collects one of them.
Odds are pretty good that they won't get brined at all. #womp
The ideal weight of this year's bird is about 14lbs. Gary was about 12.5lbs and Fred was a giant at 23lbs. By the end of Thanksgiving last year, we had about half of him left.
Don't get me wrong, he was delicious, but there's definitely a limit to the enjoyment of turkey leftovers.
You definitely want the leftover turkey sandwich. Twice, if you can manage it. Turkey tetrazzini is also a good bet, but right about the time you're making fried leftover turkey tacos is when you really start to question the wisdom of cooking up Big Bird.
I've been thinking this whole time that Thanksgiving is this coming Thursday.
I haven't even chosen the bird yet and it's already messing with my faculties. From the grocer's freezer. Miles away.
That checks out. The turkey gods are probably very unhappy with me.
It is a lesser known fact that turkeys hate Mondays too.
Some people have ham for Thanksgiving.
This thread would probably be a lot funnier if it were about pigs, but nah.
This post is a brief moment of silence for the potatoes that are also going to be murdered for the sake of Thanksgiving.
Unless you read it aloud, then it's not.
Frozen turkeys also get into raucous disagreements, which is kind of unfortunate because in the end, none of them wins.
Do you suppose that young turkeys know that when they grow up, they're going to be delicious? π€
Turkey Kindergarten:
Turkey chick #1: I'm gonna be a fireman!
Turkey chick #2: I'm gonna be a pilot!
Turkey chick #3: I'm gonna be a fireman!
Turkey chick #1: Hey, that's what I'm gonna be!
Turkey teacher: π
(I'm definitely the villain in this story.)
I wonder why I haven't heard of turkey pizza... π€
I'm guessing there's some kind of turkey/pizza treaty involved.
Fun Fact: This movie was originally supposed to be about turkeys, but the MPAA decided that it would have to be rated R for horror, so they made it about chickens instead.
π₯π£βοΈπ±π¦πͺπ©Έππ₯π
It's close enough to the event that I am now daydreaming about the logistics of acquiring a frozen turkey that's probably dead, ruthlessly removing its spine, giving it its last bath ever, subjecting it to what it surely regards as the fires of hell and then gleefully consuming it with friends and loved ones.
A family member has requested the spine.
This would be disconcerting if he wasn't the man responsible for this year's gravy.
I guess I am just assuming that he's going to use a raw turkey spine to make epic gravy, but how well do I know the guy, really?
He could have a shed of full of turkey spines, hanging from the ceiling on thumbtacked twine, a pair of googley eyes affixed to each of them. He could have given them names and spends every Thursday evening from 8 to 10pm having wacky conversations with them.
But nah. He's probably just making gravy.
Reading that again, and I am suddenly thinking that this thread might not be the best introduction to CounterSocial for the newcomers... π
"So I join and the first thing I see is some Asshat dressed like a first-grader's idea of a turkey, and he's posting all of this crazy shit about turkey spines hanging from ceilings with googley eyes attached to them and I just don't know what the hell we're even doing on the internet anymore."
^^ It's pretty funny if you've been here for a while though. #sadbuttrue
There's an eagle outside screaming. Is it yelling at me for totally bullying an as yet unacquired frozen bird?
Oof. I sure hope they never become allied with turkeys because if you really think about it, eagles are basically flying razor blades of doom. #PNWlife
Alfred says that eagles eat turkeys too, so that's one less thing for me to worry about.
At some point here I will share my brining process, which is the secret to a seriously delicious formerly happy giant dead bird.
Without brining, roasted turkey is just meh.
The hardest part of brining is finding a suitable container that can hold both the bird and enough liquid to keep it completely submerged and chilled for 48 hours.
I have a giant stock pot that just barely fits in the fridge. I've used a cooler in the past. Even a bucket with a foodsafe plastic liner can work. If the outside temp stays below 40Β°, you can even park it on a porch if it's securely closed.
It's 100% worth the effort.
^^ Turkeys become remarkably flexible when you remove their spine, which gives you more options when it comes to finding a container for the brine.
Sharing this now so you can gather the necessary supplies, you know, if cooking up a giant bird is also in your future.
Speaking of supplies, this thing is also a must-have. It'll go off when your bird is cooked to perfection.
We use ours year-round.
As for the bird, I'll likely pick mine up in the next few days. It'll start thawing on Monday to be ready for brine Thursday to be cooked Saturday.
If you're cooking yours for Thanksgiving, you want that thaw to start this coming Saturday, brine to start Tuesday for cooking Thursday. Thaw time might be less depending on bird size.
Brine time is 48 hours. It can be done in less, but this has worked out best in my experience.
@kel so youβre saying it takes 48 hrs to drown, whatβs its name?
