Turkey du jour

Ah, Thanksgiving. & in addition to the inevitable “worst day in the year to travel” stories, the media are churning out “tips for a safe holiday” pieces like this.

Ref: the turkey hazards, a few things come to mind.

For the longest time I really, really hated the traditional Thanksgiving meal because the turkeys of my childhood were always overcooked. (Plus, I never liked gravy, cooked stuffing makes me gag & my mother’s idea of yams was opening a can. The only thing not revolting about the whole affair was the mashed potatoes—& the lack of green bean casserole—until Mom discovered instant potato flakes.) It didn’t occur to me that there was a way to roast poultry without turning it into a tasteless cardboard-like food substance. Which you had to eat for days.

Evidently this is not a widespread problem. Maybe the undercooking comes from not thoroughly thawing a frozen turkey before tossing it in the oven? They always tell you to thaw it in the refrigerator for at least a couple of days, but I suppose people forget & try to make up for it by wishing it into room temperature.

(Hmm—well, blow me: the USDA officially says it’s okay to cook a bird from the frozen state. Only it takes 50% longer than the recommended times if you do that. I’m betting that’s another instruction that’s hard for people with restless relatives milling about the house to carry out.)

You get all these warnings about the whole raw poultry process—wash your hands after touching it; disinfect any surfaces it’s been on; cook it to 165°. & I wonder how it is that my sibs & I survived to maturity because we did none of that because we knew none of that. (But we do now, because of course now we know.)

But here’s my helpful tip for countering any dodgy parts of Thanksgiving dinner:

An Irish colleague of mine while I worked in Britain told me one day that her mother had always advised her that if you eat anything you think might be unsalubrious, down a shot of whisky as soon as you’re able. It’s a kind of preemptive strike & will disinfect your personal plumbing.

Shortly after we had that conversation I went to Köln for the Christkindlmarkt & my first meal, on the way from hotel to market, was chicken, which I realized after several bites was distinctly undercooked. But Christmas markets have stalls selling Glühwein, & you have the option of getting it “mit schnapps”—cognac or rum. So I ordered myself a comforting mug of hot mulled wine with rum & I was perfectly fine.

(I also realized that the bratwurst you get at any Christkindlmarkt are yummy, so no need to worry about finding food on your way to or from.)

Naturally, I am not a physician, nor do I play one on television, your mileage may vary & no deposit/no return. But it couldn’t hurt.

Happy Thanksgiving!