Last week we dealt with creme fraiche fear. That has been laid to rest. There was no creme fraiche (krem fresh) at our Thanksgiving gathering. Whew. But I had introduced a new fear into our home on the Tuesday of Thanksgiving week. The fear of a fraiche turkey. I had come home with a fresh turkey, not the expected frozen one.
It had not been an easy shopping trip. I was doing the weekly food shopping, Thanksgiving root veggie shopping and turkey shopping for our own Thanksgiving on Saturday, so there were three shopping assignments in one trip. Having our own turkey after Thanksgiving had become established as a result of annual giveaway by supermarkets. Those customers whose total bill exceeded a predetermined amount earned the reward of a free bird. So we always had our own, which we used later on in the month. Thing is, there was no offer of a free turkey this year but we stubbornly decided to go ahead with our turkey plan.
I started in the produce aisle. I would do the root veggie shopping first. The list immediately caused me confusion. Paul had listed the desired veggies in what to me was an inconsistent manner. Some were plurals and others were singular. He had beets (plural, how many?) then parsnip (one?), carrots (a bunch, I suppose) yam (one big one?) thyme leaves (could be hundreds)
Paul had instructed as well as emphasized that I was to buy turnips and butternut squash already chopped-these two veggies were located in bags in the organic section. The reason for the prechopped variety was to preserve our counter top from the powerful axe like smashes needed to break a turnip as well as the surgery involved in the hollowing of a squash.I saw the beets first. The beets were clumped in groups of three. So did that clump of three represent the standard of grouping I was to follow? It seemed to me that one parsnip, one yam were so lonely and skimpy for a feast. Isn't Thanksgiving about being with others? Why did only the beets get to be in a group? And what about the carrots? They were packaged in a bag of about ten. I became very frustrated. I knew I would choose all the wrong amounts.
I make my choices. Three of each it would be. No fresh thyme by itself. It came in a package nestled among sage and rosemary-another sign that the group of three was the way to go. Done with the root veggie shopping.
Onward to the turkeys. Of course, I have listened to the stories of frozen turkeys and how long to defrost and all that. Somehow I was magnetically pulled towards a group of turkey shoppers who were squeezing, sniffing, kneading and pawing a group of turkeys, I did not notice that they were soft, fresh, almost cuddly to the touch-fresh, so fresh I completely forgot about my mission of the frozen turkey. The camaraderie of this shared experience with this group of turkeys erased my frozen thoughts and compelled me to select a perfect fresh turkey. I plopped the little guy in the seat of the cart , the seat of honor, reserved for human toddlers. Done with the turkey.
I did the weekly food assignment by rote. All three shopping lists done.
I had been gone a long time.
Upon my arrival at home, Liam burst from the side door to greet me, stopping at the gate in the driveway.
As I carried in the bags, Liam propelled his body into the turkey bag. I knew from Liam's interest in the cuddly turkey that I had done good. "On no. You got a fresh turkey!" "Yeah, I did." " Do you know why people do not get fresh turkeys? I am sure you will tell me. But suddenly away from the hypnotic turkey aisle of King Kullen, the answer became clear. Money. Frozen are so much cheaper. Frozen are .29 cents a pound, my soft bird was 1.19 a pound. I had spent about $12.00 more than I would have had I bought a hard cold frozen turkey. I offered to return the baby bird (I had no intention of doing so). "No, no, we'll keep him."
Liam showed his beagle heritage by becoming a sniffing machine. He could not get a rabbit or squirrel outside but he had hit the mother load with this succulent bird on the counter.
As we shooed Liam away
my root veggie purchases were evaluated and questioned. "Why did you buy 3 parsnips and 3 yams?" I reply "The beets came in threes so I thought that set the tone for the rest of the veggies." Paul just sighed. Perhaps this exalted chore of food shopping will be wrested from me. I am full of thanks at the possibility.I was given the job of paring the yam. Let me first say that we do not having the correct tools for chopping and paring root veggies. By the time I got finished skinning my yam I had winnowed it to the size of a carrot. Paul was more skillful. He cited his produce background as a boy in the A&P as the reason his paring as so superior. Haha. All he did was squeeze the cantaloupes for the women and tell them tell them their melons were ripe. Half the time their melons were not ripe and never would be.
We did it. They were ready. The roasted root vegetables were a fine addition to Thanksgiving and we thank our niece for requesting them.
By the Saturday after Thanksgiving, our fresh turkey was at the tail end of its freshness. Last day before we might suffer salmonella. We had to cook him. Paul slid turkey in the oven- lo and behold-it cooked twice as fast as a frozen bird. I applauded its competitive spirit.
It was worth every penny. Or the many pennies.
A juicy, fresh turkey!Liam had doggie chicken with brown rice.
And now onward to the Christmas Howliday season.
The tree is up and Liam is playing ball,
not one from the tree. let's get a closer look
No it is his own Kong rubber ball flying through the living room 
Woof, woof
