I cooked a perfect turkey once. It was the 1950s, so I was trying hard to be perfect, like Margaret Anderson. Or June Cleaver. I prepared carefully for this, reading several cookbooks, clipping out recipes from magazines and newspapers, calling up my mother and big sister so I knew what advice to ignore.
All of the recipes I read were for a large, frozen turkey. Good. That was what was available in the Safeway where I shopped. A small turkey would be too much like chicken, and a fresh turkey, even if I wanted one, was nowhere to be found. Besides, it looked like fresh turkeys were more likely to get salmonella, the dread disease we were all warned about. So I went for frozen. And large.
I took my two children with me. Not to pick the turkey, I would do that myself. I had to take them along because there were no babysitters in the new suburb where we lived. So my two-year old daughter was in the grocery cart, and my four-year old son was walking with me. They were both cranky and tired. So was I. I had a grocery cart full of groceries, but I left the turkey for last because I was afraid it would get salmonella if I couldn’t get it home right away.
I asked the grocer to help me choose the perfect turkey. He started to give me cooking instructions, but I couldn’t wait. So I pointed to a turkey, and we both hoisted it into the cart. When I was through the checkout, the cashier and a grocery “bagger” helped me put it in the trunk.
When I got home, there was a problem. I had two very tired children in the car, and a huge turkey, (which could get salmonella any minute). I took the children in and put them down for their naps. Then I went out for the turkey. I couldn’t lift it.
Fortunately, two carpenters were working in the house across the street. They said they were “on the clock”, and couldn’t help. I burst into tears, and they said, “okay”, even though they were so busy. It only took one of them. He put the turkey right into the freezer, so I didn’t have to lift it at all.
Two days before Christmas, my husband took the turkey out of the freezer and put it in the fridge, like the recipe said. Every few hours I asked him to take it out again, so I could check to see how fast it was thawing. It wasn’t thawing. We were getting dizzy from taking it out and putting it back in the fridge. The next day, it still wasn’t thawing, so we had to take the plastic wrapping off and put it in a sink full of water. Then we put it on the kitchen counter and left it for a few hours. It seemed to be getting softer, but we couldn’t leave it there overnight. That would mean salmonella for sure. So we put it back in the fridge.
The next day, I woke up early to check the turkey. It was almost thawed! I could move the legs and wings around, but the inside was still frozen. So I put it in the water again.
By 10:00 am, it was ready to go! I did everything according to the recipe; pulled out pinfeathers, washed the inside and outside and dried it, and took out the giblets. Then I stuffed it with dressing I had chilling in the fridge. I trussed it with string, and oiled it, finally covering it with tin foil before we put it in the huge pan we had to buy. At first it looked like it wouldn’t fit in the oven. But we shuffled it around, and took out all but the lowest rack, so it was okay. We took it out several times to baste it, and by five o’clock we could tell it was golden brown and smelling wonderful.
By 7:00 pm, it still wasn’t ready. The children were really hungry, so I fed them scrambled eggs and toast, and put them to bed. By 9:00 pm, we took the turkey out for the last time. It was perfect! We only had a taste— we weren’t hungry since we had already eaten; mashed potatoes, cranberry, yam casserole, and brussels sprouts. We let the turkey cool completely before we put it back in the fridge, just like the recipe suggested.
Next day, when I phoned my mother long distance, she said lucky we had a freezer. We could have some of that turkey when they came to see us at Easter.
You were better than me. I left the giblets package in the turkey my first Thanksgiving as cook.
That struck a chord of recognition! I suspect that, in the 40+ years I’ve cooked a Christmas turkey, I did that too. …then buried it somewhere in my subconscious.
Loved the story Diane. It reminded me of countless Christmas dinners that went fowl.
Ian
Wish I had used that line, Ian. Maybe I should invite you to be my guest blogger!
Frozen turkeys take a l-o-o-ng time to defrost. One Thanksgiving we were invited to a friends for dinner. I love turkey and wanted some leftovers, so Thanksgiving afternoon I went to the store and bought one to cook a few days later. A fellow from work saw me, looked in the cart, and looked up at me again. He said, “You don’t believe in planning ahead, do you Jean?”
It depends on the size of the turkey, doesn’t it? It took me years to give up on the 22 lb birds, and buy on half the size. But, if I remember correctly, smaller birds were not so easily found! Thanks for your comment, Jean!
what a wonderful story. I think all senior women could relate to it. I know I did. Oh, the pains I took with the first massive turkey I cooked on my own and the mis-steps that occurred along the way. My husband and I ate our turkey late and, having only a tiny freezer compartment in our refrigerator, ate if often during the next week. Thanks for making me remember and laugh.
Thanks, Aunt Beulah. Humor, as you well know, is a challenge to write. But it is also fun! I’m hoping to do a regular piece on what we, as older people, remember.
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