Another Thanksgiving Day has come and gone, and yet again, my knack with the turkey flesh paid off handsomely.
See, I cook them differently every. Single. Time. I never have used the same recipe/approach twice.
Whole turkeys or turkey breasts, makes no difference. Every. Single. Time. they come out utterly delicious and fork-tender.
Every. Single. Time.
Now, please understand. I’m so not bragging here. See, I have NO IDEA how I do it.
Take yesterday, for instance.
I was using this recipe from Ina Garten. (Fortuitously requiring white wine.)
And first off, I forgot the garlic. Didn’t even register until it was already in the oven.
Also, before that, my daughter was helping me make the rub and we just … well, we got a little carried away and just totally gave up on measurements altogether. “Is that about a tablespoon?” “Yeah, looks good. Toss it in!” “OK!”
I forgot what time I put it in. Completely lost track of time. I finally remembered about ten minutes past the time the recipe said it should be finished.
You would be wrong.
It was like the consistency of butter, and so freaking delicious even my meat-apathetic daughter, after the first taste, burst out with “OH MY GOD, Mom, this is the best thing you have EVER made. EV. ER.”
How does this happen?
I would really like to know. I think I could turn that ninja-turkey knowledge into some serious green, yo.
Except – I have no clue how I do it.
After two glasses of wine, the only thing I could come up with was “The Turkey Fairy smacked me upside the head twice with her magic spatula at birth? I guess?”