Archive | November, 2012

What’s All the Fuss?

19 Nov

Each year, we come to the time when all matters of true importance get placed on the back burner and only one topic is to consume us for an entire week.

The overriding question of questions is this: How to cook a turkey? Not just cook, but cook purrrfectly. Because, only in America, land of the obssessive-compulsive need to be the best, do we spend countless hours watching, talking, and listening to professional cooks lending their expertise with regards to roasting, turning, basting, stuffing, and bird carving, which is rarely thought of once November (and sometimes December) passes.

Surely, the original pilgrims didn’t partake in such mind-numbing quibble. They had more urgent matters to consider, like survival. Once the first year passed, those who remained understood the true meaning of Thanksgiving. Decisions to stuff or not to stuff; cover or uncover; low and slow or high then low just weren’t of issue.

This daughter of a more recent pilgrim had watched Kaukab get up quite early each Thanksgiving Day to prep the turkey and get it in the oven so that her little turkeys could have their Thanksgiving meal mid-day. This was so the family could finish up and digest in time to make the two-block drive to the cousins’ house, where other aunts and uncles, cousins and siblings could get together and brag, pick on, and generally compete for the most annoying relative  award, most frequently split between a certain aunt and uncle (brother-sister duo), the two clueless to their winnings.

But I digress.

As for turkeys, the morning news shows and various foodie networks would have us think that the most important matter of the week leading to the big day would be the cooking of the turkey. No other country (other than, perhaps, Canada) celebrates a turkey as much as we do. And for what good reason? To blow the minds of women.

No matter how much the world will tell us we can achieve, every Thanksgiving is a reminder of how little all that matters. The most important measure of a woman’s honor is how good her turkey is. Not only must it be moist and delicious, it must also be pretty. Tables must be made up to look extra special, even if no one special is coming to feast at it.

So, this Thanksgiving will be no different. Out will come the beautiful brown turkey with all the trimmings, and all will be impressed. You will have done your jobs, and done them well. You can rest on your turkey laurels for another full year.

Until the next one comes.

For now, try not to worry. It’s just a turkey. What could possibly go wrong?

Now go eat some pie and just be thankful.


A Bunch of Turkeys

12 Nov

Before I get started, would someone, please, provide me with the correct word to describe a group of turkeys, as I seem to recall that turkeys are not quite like bananas? Excuse me if I don’t wait, as I’ve got a much belated post to throw down.

As most of you know, we have come out of a rough year of electoral gobbling and the decision has been made. For roughly one-half, the decision was glorious; the other half, well, not so much.

Despite how you voted, one thing is clear. Well, maybe two.

The turkeys in Washington still haven’t gotten much done, and the price per pound for the turkeys at the market is only rising. It doesn’t seem that long ago when Kaukab’s daughter could find them for $.49 a pound. Now, the lowest found has hovered around the dollar and change mark. So, what to do? Buy a smaller turkey? Given that the number of family members remains the same, most likely not a good option.

Kaukab wasn’t much help. A phone call from her last week confirmed as much. Always out for a bargain, and never one to shy away from a critical analysis of  price points, the same question was posed. Her response? “No, Whada madda wit you? They no have turkey that cheap enty more! (Additional arabic slang tossed in.)  We moved on to politics. Oh, how Kaukab’s daughter preferred arabic slang.

Suffice to say that Kaukab won’t be showing up on any Sunday news programs, anytime soon. Not that it wouldn’t be entertaining. Just, cerebrally exhausting. Happily, she can’t vote, given her alien status. (Biting tongue right about now.)

So, what’s to be learned from this election cycle?

You may have to pay a bit more for your turkeys this year, but the price won’t be as high as what you’ll pay for the turkeys in Washington.

Happy Thanksgiving

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