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May I segue to a favorite story about attempting to make turkey gravy? Pretty please?
OK, I will, thanks!
My dearest college friend and I shared a house together one year. He was working, I was waiting on a job...money was tight and he loved a bargain. He brought home this massive "red tag special" bag of turkey drumsticks. He was certain we'd find all sorts of uses for the sinewy things. They sat in the freezer for months. Finally, something had to be done...every time we opened the freezer compartment desperately hoping to cram something new into it that bag leered at us.
I'll freely admit that I'm no cook. I was somewhat skeptical about those drumsticks; they seemed strangely intimidating. Jon, the eternal optimist, wasn't worried.
"Ah, c'mon Al, don't worry. We can use all that meat in lots of things and we'll have lots of stock for gravy to boot!"
So, the drumsticks were dumped into the biggest pot we had; an enameled metal roasting pan.
They boiled and boiled, getting tougher by the minute. Worried looks and poking at them with a fork didn't seem to help. All the windows in the house steamed up the longer they cooked. Finally, Jon decided they were done, laid them all out on a cutting board and hacked off what little usable meat existed. He did sample some of it but I didn't detect any rave reviews. I spent some time in the shower, so maybe I missed them.
Next, make the promised gravy out of all that stock. There seemed like an awful lot of it compared to the fragrant drippings my mom's Thanksgiving turkeys always produced.
Jon (remember, he's the optimist): "Oh gravy is easy. Just add some flour to the stock."
So, I added flour and started stirring.
And added flour.
And added flour.
And added flour.
Nothing happened. Yes, the stock was more opaque, but it wasn't looking anything like gravy to me.
Within one moment and the next, the stock jelled. I kept stirring frantically, but the chemical reaction was out of control. I called Jon for help. He came running in, stared at the gluey mass and commented in the kindest possible way:
"I don't think you needed that much flour, Al."
The stuff set up like cement. I had admitted defeat a long time ago and Jon reluctantly joined in. The roaster pan ended up outdoors on the back porch. We dubbed the experiment "Turkey Brick" and tried using it for crab bait. Even they wouldn't touch it.
Couldn't rep you again but that was a great story. Reminds me of when I tried tried to cook a duck my husband ran over. I didn't boil it, I tried to fry it. So much for roadkill, lol.
Ouf! Frying a duck that was probably already too fat to fly!
Now I do happen to like Chinese crispy duck but no, just no.
Shared another agency bunkhouse in ND with 2 other biologists. One brought home a roadkill pheasant. He didn't hit it, the car in front of him did. Sometimes roadkill is better than one someone shot themselves. You don't have to worry about cracking your tooth on a buried shotgun pellet! That's a quick way to end a feast.
lol - boiling the legs to make gravy? lol. You have to roast and use the pan drippings. That is too funny.
you make a roux first with the some of the fat and flour. Then add the stock. And seasonings. He was making glue.
Can I just say, I grew up mostly vegetarian and had never had gravy. My first time cooking Thanksgiving dinner, I wound up making gravy from turkey stock (from turkey thighs braised in a crock pot), cornstarch, that Brown n' Season stuff, and poultry seasoning. My guests raved about it, and I've made it that way ever since, for the past 20 years.
go back 40 yrs ago watch some old home movies....
just about every adult had a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other …..hollering at the many many kids
It was always a potluck in our family. BIL is an expert turkey-smoker, so the turkey was wow-tender. No one was stuck with too much cooking.
Down here where it is not a holiday (but they have picked up on the marketing possibilities so call it
"Black Weekend" LOL)---so we just went down the stairs to our neighbor's condo and had a potluck there. He paid extra for an "American" turkey which was very expensive and we all chipped in.
I enjoy the time with family, good food and long weekend off work. I still get together with my immediate and extended family but that will probably change in the coming years so I'll enjoy the golden years of my childhood that have extended into adulthood while it lasts.
We spend Thanksgiving with our adult kids, their spouses and maybe one in-law (who is delightful). We don’t enjoy huge gatherings so this works for us. The “kids” and their spouses don’t see each other often due to distance but all get along great and it is a happy, fun day. I miss my parents but have many sweet memories of the holiday with them.
The work involved is pretty tiring - I like to use the sterling (has to be polished), china and crystal so that involves hand washing. Cleaning the house and making up rooms as people are here for a few days to a week takes time and effort beforehand.
I do have help with cooking as we pick up the turkey from a great restaurant, and everyone else has their speciality. That is really fun and makes everyone feel like a part of the dinner. Nobody drinks too much or talks politics, although we are all on the same page with that.
My last “guest” left today so it has been a busy week. DH and I did spend one Thanksgiving alone when we were young, just married and lived far away and I was miserable so I remind myself of that when I get tired. I am grateful to have the family I have.
I volunteered to work a 12 hour hour shift. Working got me out of the holiday and gave at least one other nurse, probably two nurses, the chance to be at home with their people.
It seems like my 91-year-old mother spends the whole holiday and extended weekend angry with me. Always about communication. She doesn't hear well, doesn't wear her hearing aids, or (I suspect) forgets if she's told something. Then it's, "You didn't tell me!" or "Nobody said anything to me!" even though we did, five times (with witnesses). Oldest daughter and son in law made (well deserved) plans to be alone together shopping on Friday, and then go out to dinner. We'd babysit their kids at my mom's house, and DD and SIL would pick them up that evening to go back to the hotel. DD told her grandmother this, twice. I also told her. At suppertime on Friday, she was angry when they didn't come home to eat, and that "nobody told her". Of course, I'm the one who has to face the brunt of it, because I'm supposedly responsible for the comings and goings of seven grown adults. Ditto our departure on Saturday evening...we told her when we were planning on leaving (we left Saturday night as opposed to Sunday morning to escape bad weather). I told her, DH told her, and so did DD. Then come our time to leave Saturday, she's mad again because we "didn't tell her" so she didn't make anything for us to eat.
I need to add that no one went off and "neglected" her at all. There was almost always a houseful of someone there...me, the great-grandkids, my two DD's, DH (who spent the whole weekend stretched out on the sofa). I went out shopping for one hour on Friday, and spent the rest of the day at her house. I went jogging in the early mornings, before she got up. DD and SIL just wanted some time to themselves. Taking a long holiday weekend out of town with two small boys, 6 and 3, can be stressful.
Last edited by Mrs. Skeffington; 12-01-2019 at 10:41 AM..
It's been my favorite holiday for a long time. As my siblings and I have gotten older we've taken more of a potluck approach instead of my mother cooking everything. We all know what the usual sides and desserts are so we volunteer for one or more. If someone wants to bring something special or different that's fine. We just like to have the traditional foods covered.
We do all sit down together to eat. We had dinner at our house this year as my mother has been sick.
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So much for roadkill, lol.
