November 20, 2000
CYBERCOLUMN:
A tale of two turkeys...
___By Donna Van Cleve
___Thanksgiving is such a wonderful time for families and friends to gather 'round a bountiful table, thanking God for all the many blessings he has bestowed upon us.
___ It was so traumatic for me. For years I had gotten away with only fixing side dishes for Thanksgiving dinners since my mother and mother-in-law did such wonderful jobs cooking the traditional turkey and dressing. Being in my mid-30s, I thought it was about time for me to learn how to cook a turkey-- not the dressing, mind you. That was a wholeother ballgame to tackle another year.
DONNA VAN CLEVE
___Nervous as I was, though, I felt confident that everything would turn out all right since I had a self-basting turkey. How hard could it be when the turkey did all the work? I borrowed a huge pan from my mom, pealed off the packaging around the turkey, rinsed it off, threw it in the pan, and popped it in the oven. The turkey was cooking just fine until my husband walked in the kitchen and took a look at it.
___"Did you know you're cooking the turkey upside down?"
___No, I didn't, but I wasn't about to let him know.
___ "That's how you're supposed to cook a turkey."
___ "Have you basted it yet?"
___ "It's self-basting. You're not supposed to baste a self-basting turkey."
___"You're always supposed to baste a turkey."
___ "And how many turkeys have you cooked in your lifetime?"
___He didn't answer as he walked out of the kitchen. I jerked the oven door open and flipped that turkey over. My confidence was shaken just a bit. I wondered if there was something else I should know about turkeys. I turned my attention to the umpteen other things to do in preparation for the big family dinner.
___ After a while, the gobbler expert came into the kitchen again.
___ "Have you basted the turkey?"
___ "No, I haven't basted the turkey. It is self-basting. That means it bastes itself."
___ "But you're always supposed to baste a turkey."
___ "This is my turkey, and if I choose not to baste it, I will not baste it."
___ It was a matter of principle then.
___"It's gonna be dry."
___ I think I threw a dishtowel at him as he walked out the door. I looked at the turkey and smiled to myself. It was gorgeous. I finished preparing everything else and jumped in the shower before the kinfolks arrived.
___ Mom came early and asked about the giblet gravy. I told her the giblets didn't come with this particular turkey. She gave me a sympathetic smile as she dug out this bag of stuff hiding inside the turkey. I was so glad that the Big Turkey Kahuna was not in the kitchen at that moment.
___ After Mom made the giblet gravy, the family all gathered 'round the table for the blessing, and my husband carried my perfectly cooked self-basted turkey and set it down to carve. He looked over at me and smiled.
___ "I have to tell you, Sweetheart, that the turkey turned out beautifully …"
___ All the anger melted away. The pressure was gone. Life was good. I looked at him with such love and then looked at my turkey with such pride …
___ "… because when you were in the shower, I took the turkey out and basted it."
___ I haven't cooked another turkey since.
___ UPDATE: This turkey tale occurred almost 10 years ago. Last November. I cooked my second turkey for the student emergency medical technicians at Texas A&M University Emergency Medical Service who were having to work over the Thanksgiving holiday. I easily found the bag in the hole where the turkey's head used to be, and I removed it before I cooked the turkey. But did you know they hide another one in there some place else? Mom gave me another sympathetic smile as she dug that one out, too, after I had cooked it with the turkey. Again.
___ Donna Van Cleve is director of the public library in Cotulla and is a member of First Baptist Church in Cotulla, where she is church pianist.
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