I made my first turkey and there is an entire (painfully detailed) Wiki page dedicated to Perry the Platypus.
So our Christmas this year involved a turkey and a platypus.
I never did get to make a turkey for Thanksgiving, you know, living in a hotel and all. But for Christmas? GOBBLE. So here you go. How someone who has never cooked a turkey cooks a turkey after going to turkey school and learning every possible thing there is to know about turkey.
Except. Here’s the thing. I panicked. I had to call the Turkey Talk Line. (And I wasn’t even paid to, nor am I being paid to write this post (SUCK IT FTC.))
My fancy thermometer said the thigh meat was done. It also said the breast meat was done. But the cavity was filled with nasty looking stuff (like turkey blood, which, ew. (Also? I don’t stuff turkeys, something about cooking something in the butt of something…)) BUT! According to the turkey talk line all was well. I was done! I DID IT!
And it was delicious.
But what I did learn at turkey school? Get the turkey up off the bottom of the pan. Don’t have a fancy rack? IMPROVISE!
And like I said before. Use a darn thermometer. Okay?
After doing the “I cooked my first turkey and didn’t screw it up” victory dance I turned the oven off.
It was only three o clock.
When your kid wakes you up at 5 am on Christmas morning the day goes by verrry slowly.
ENTER TURKEY SCHOOL!
I wrapped that turkey up in foil, wrapped the foil wrapped turkey in towels and kept that turkey food safe toasty for two hours. (Or you know, until the rest of dinner caught up with the turkey.)
So there. I’m done gloating about the turkey success.
Wait, just kidding. THE GRAVY FROM THE TURKEY DRIPPINGS? BEST. GRAVY. EVER.
Okay. Now I’m done.
Did I mention Perry?
Or how my kid insists in dressing up in everything brightly colored from her closet to go out?
I don’t post videos very often, but this is her. Opening what she asked for from grandpa Santa for Christmas. I can’t decide which is my favorite. When she kisses it, calls it “My Little Pony Get Your Hair Done Spa Day”, thanks Santa profusely at the very end or squeals one of four different times. (Don’t forget the total Utah “OH MY GOSH” at the very beginning.)
It was a good Christmas, in my house. With my family. Very cheery indeed.