I took my life into my hands and waltzed into Publix on Saturday with the goal of buying a smallish turkey and spiral cut ham (with all the trimmings, of course!) Wandering the aisles in no hurry, for once, I browsed the choices and compared prices. Too many leftovers would only sabotage all the hard work I have done this year to get into shape. I determined to refrain from making a huge pan of dressing because, first of all, I don’t need the carbs and, second, my kids won’t touch the stuff despite all the years I have set it before them.
I’m sure it’s a texture issue.
We have dear friends joining us on Thanksgiving day, along with my beloved mama and daddy. I could not be happier that I will have a table bursting with food and laughter and ten kids running all over my house. It is going to be delightful.
I chose a smallish turkey (about ten pounds) and placed it carefully in my basket, moving on to the next aisle. It should be enough and I can make bone broth from the leftover bones. That is always a good thing as winter approaches. As I turned the corner, though, there was a case of huge turkeys awaiting my eyes. My mouth dropped open and I stood there, momentarily stunned and unsure of how to proceed. I looked at the little bird in my basket, then up at the huge ones piled up in the freezer case. I lifted one up and felt it’s weight, more than double the one in my basket. My mind immediately imagined our table with this as the centerpiece, golden and seasoned and surrounded by sweet potatoes, cranberries, macaroni and cheese, green bean casserole and all the pies we have planned. I looked at this turkey and realized what I held in my hand.
“Feasting is an act of war.”
I returned the smallish turkey to it’s former home and replaced it with the huge one. It is way too big. (Remember, I also bought a spiral cut ham!) We will be tired of leftovers before it is all consumed. I will have made soups and sandwiches ad nauseum and, still, it will take up half of my refrigerator before I throw it in a big pot and boil it down to smithereens.
But it will stand, glorius and golden after many hours brined, basted and baked. It will bless eyes and bellies and surely put us all into a food coma.
And we will fight together, friends and family, against the darkness, pushing back once again as we rehearse for the Great Feast that is to come, the Wedding Supper of the Lamb.
Happy Thanksgiving, my friends. Fight hard and fight well!