Big Blue

Thanksgiving wishes from us to you

The countdown to Thanksgiving starts today. This is not a drill. Take that turkey out of the freezer and start thawing it now.

I take the Thanksgiving meal very seriously. So seriously, in fact, that every year, I make a "stunt turkey," the pre-turkey turkey, to ensure we have enough gravy and some spare meat in case of a turkey-based disaster on the day of thanks. I always build a redundancy into the system.

Imagine the Will Ferrell character from "Elf" but aimed at the Thanksgiving meal - that's me.

This year, my stunt turkey is one of ours from the farmyard. He started off as a kind little boy - I hatched him myself. At some point in his growing-up process, though, his little walnut-sized brain decided I was a threat. He had no idea how right he was about to be with that assessment.

I used to have to use a metal trashcan lid, Captain America-style, to feed the poultry when he was around. My husband likes to laugh about the time I was getting in the shower, and he looked over like Freddy Kruger had attacked me with long scratches down my legs. He asked me what the heck had happened. "The turkey did it," I sighed.

Powerful and aggressive animals should not live in a home with small human children. Although we don't think of turkeys as potentially harmful, a swift kick from a 40-pound bird made of muscle and anger with tiny knives at the end of each toe can do real damage to a toddler's eyes.

So, I went from a more passive turkey tender to sending that turkey to the big deep freeze in the sky. "Bye, buddy."

"Big Blue" (as I called him) was a blue slate turkey, a breed known for its highly desirable rich and dark meat. He emerged back from the freezer a few days ago to defrost for his debut this weekend as our stunt turkey.

As our six-year-old walked past the sink this morning, he spied the turkey in the early stages of roaster prep and casually asked, "Is that the turkey who kept attacking you, Mom?" as if remarking on the weather. It struck me how normal the origin of our food is in his life. At six, he intrinsically understands the intertwined nature of life and death with our food in a way most adults can't grasp.

We have animals, love them, give them the best life possible, and do good by them. But we also sometimes eat them. For my son, this is not some overwrought trauma; it's just the way we eat meat.

Homegrown turkeys don't usually look like they belong in a Rockwell painting. Turkeys produced for commercial sale almost always have white feathers to appear "cleaner" when plucked. Darker heritage breeds (like the blue slate) will have tiny pin feathers that look like little flecks of rosemary no matter how many hours you spend fastidiously picking at the bird. The darker skin can be off-putting to those who have only had grocery store fowl, but any concerns evaporate with that first bite of homegrown turkey.

Big Blue just came out of the oven, and our house smells unreal. Over the next few hours, I'll carefully carve him for dinner tonight and put much of his meat back in the freezer if needed later. I'll then turn his drippings into a rich gravy and the rest into a stock for a turkey noodle soup that will slay the most wicked winter cold.

For you, dear friends, who are premium subscribers, I am linking to my Personal Guide to Thanksgiving - a "printable" - which is a fancy way of saying a .pdf that you can print out should you so choose. It’s a guide chock full of my schedule, recipes, and Thanksgiving tricks to pull off the perfect meal. I overthink the prep so you don’t have to. It even includes the principles from which I strategize the meal - these include things like: “It’s all about the sides” and “If something is as good store-bought as from scratch, buy it, you have enough to do.”

If you’re not yet a premium subscriber but think you need more Thanksgiving strategic principles in your life (you absolutely do) then please consider joining us

.

I love Thanksgiving. I hope you do, too. Pull that bird out of the freezer to let it start to thaw. All my love to you and yours, from me and Big Blue.