I'm inviting the bloggers who read here, to give us your best, Holiday Gone Bad story. Here's my first.
About ten years ago we invited relatives to Thanksgiving dinner here on the farm. We probably had twenty invited. My bride was going to be in Denver with her family and so I was going to entertain 20 people and run the kennel.
The plan was to smoke one fifteen pound turkey and bake one.
I was up and at it early. I needed to put the two turkeys on and get to the kennel to do about 45 minutes worth of chores and get back to watch the turkeys and work in the kitchen. What a great day. I love Thanksgiving.
I was set with the smoker. Water, chips, rack, turkey, put the lid on and plugged it in. (it's electric)
It kinda sounded like someone was welding underneath the bird. The heating element burned in two. Butterball, we have a problem. What to do?? I'll put it on the grill. Good thinking. I used a lot of coals. No time to mess around outside with all that company. Okay, coals on one side of the Weber, turkey on the other. The recommended 'indirect heat' method. (The pamphlet comes with every grill)
I went to the house and slid one turkey in an oven bag, and put it in the oven.
I went to the kennel. Did 45 minutes worth of chores in, oh, about an hour and ten minutes and raced back home to make sure the coals hadn't gone out. They hadn't.
Note:Cut back on the coals, or air, or something.
The turkey was done. One hour and fifteen minutes. It had diminished in size a bit. Okay, at least the bones hadn't fallen thru the rack.
Note: a fifteen pound turkey will yield approximately six pounds of jerky when cooked in this fashion.
Now how to keep it warm for three hours while waiting for dinner. Note: if I open a restaurant, as I've always wanted to, I need to work on timing.I took the jerky to the house, where the relatives are starting to get up. I try to act like I'm in control. The next 3 hours are spent putting my finger in various dikes that had sprung leaks. Finally dinner time was near and the turkey in the oven in that new fangled oven bag surely must be done. It was. As a matter of fact, it had apparently gotten done about the same time as the one outside, three hours ago. I slit the bag open to discover what looked like an archeological find. My proud robust turkey was done. So were the bones. It stood at least 3 inches tall in the pan.
Note: When Marilyn's going to be gone over a holiday, practice the following line, "I'd love to come over, can I bring anything"?
This is why men always cook the meat. We can't handle the other forty things our wives usually do and cook the meat.