We’re finally getting around to deep-frying a turkey. Though this seems almost passe these day, when I first got the idea, from my old boss Mickey, he told tales of life in Louisiana where everyone in the neighborhood would pitch in to buy the gallons of peanut oil, and then everyone would bring their turkeys over. We’re not doing anything so elaborate, but …
Twenty-four pound turkey. One hour to cook.
Margie’s prepared a couple of solutions to inject under the skin of the bird, half of which will be something spicy and cajun, and half of which will be something that Doyce’s stomach is more likely to tolerate.
Cornbread and sausage stuffing.
Mashed potatoes. Possibly garlicky. Gravy.
Something with sweet potatoes (there’s no accounting for taste).
Jackie’s bringing pumpkin roll for dessert. Also, in case that’s not enough, some seven-layer bars.
Appetizers, Margie’s going to use the hot oil to fry some mushrooms (yum!), and we’re fixing mojitos (we received our annual shipment of limes from Margie’s folks) as opposed to margaritas this year.
Doyce and Jackie are coming over. So is Randy. We’ve lot of other friends in the area, but we also like to limit T’giving to folks we know who wouldn’t have other family commitments in the area. And that will keep it a relatively small group.
I’m looking forward to it.
We’re eating early — almost a late lunch. Then sit around, play some games, chit some chat — and then left-overs for dinner.
Friends. Family. Food.
I have much to give thanks for, and I do.