The roasting took place in a Boston University apartment on Commonwealth Avenue. I don't remember who was there. Perhaps my roommate from Greece. Maybe some other Coal Region ex-pats who didn't make the journey home that holiday.
I do remember that I never removed the bag of giblets before roasting.
It's not something I would have thought to do. And my mother didn't say, "Oh, hey, by the way - there will be a paper sack full of turkey organs tucked inside the turkey. Remember to removed it before cooking."
I mean, I thought the whole idea behind getting someone else to do the slaughtering and disemboweling was so there wouldn't be a moment when you had to handle a turkey liver. Or a heart.
My mother tells me that she chops up the organs, sautes them, and then hides them in the stuffing. (Or filling, depending on how much Pennsylvania Dutch ya have in ya.)
I tell her that every time she reminds me of this, I have to pay $100 to a hypnotist to make me forget. Because my mom's turkey filling (or stuffing, don't ever call it dressing) is so delicious that even PETA sends her a waiver, noting that most turkeys are despicable and grumpy and kinda deserve what they get. P.S.Don't tell anyone.
And one time, Howard Zinn was drunk at a party and confessed to a co-ed that although he did not celebrate Thanksgiving due to his moral outrage at the general cultural relativism which excuses inexcusable atrocities, he was also a tart for my mom's home cooking.
So yeah. Giblets. Eww. But yum.
Anyway, this is a photo of the second turkey I roasted - this time, in an apartment on Beacon Hill in Boston, Massachusetts.
Well, it's the carcass, anyway.
Can you guess what year this might have been?
(Hint: Look at the hair. My friend is not being ironic.)
I'm actually surprised that I have a photo that so nearly matches a NaBloPoMo suggestion on such a weird topic.
Actually, I'm kinda not surprised.
7 comments:
Actually Josette, I missed the whole thing. I had gone to visit friends elsewhere. I now regret not being there. I missed out on all the fun...
I can't remember who was there?! I know I didn't cook for myself, lol. I think I was just panicking at being responsible for everyone's Thanksgiving. I was one step away from doing the Charlie Brown things and serving toast and popcorn.
I never screwed up Thanksgiving, but I did cause severe gastric distress at my first dinner party after I was married by not removing the many, and very spicy, dried chilies from the Kung Pao chicken. It was 1987 so I was wearing leggings.
By the hair...1985 or 86.
isn't that from 87 and in an aparatment in JP
Ah, no. I know for sure it's Beacon Hill. I recognize the sink and cabinets. I lived there senior year with MPC. But you're right, it was 1987! Although...hmmmmm...when *was* JP Thanksgiving? The Thanksgiving meal that started at noon but wasn't ready until 9 at night? Epic Thanksgiving!
I came up to Boston for that thanksgiving. I have a photo of you basting your first turkey. You forbade me to squeal about the giblet bag. A
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