Just kidding, there’s more….
I don’t specifically remember how we brined the turkey, or for how long, but it came out lookin’ good. I was very pleased with myself and proceeded to make gravy from the pan drippings (I’d seen my grandmother do this, so obviously this is what you do). As an aside, I’d also seen my grandmother “roast” many turkeys in a plastic bag so….
That gravy was so salty, but for some reason we ate it anyway. Shortly after the meal, my brother was sprawled out on the couch, moaning in a way that didn’t indicate happiness. He was the kind of uncomfortable a pair of stretchy pants couldn’t cure.
And this, my friends, is what Thanksgiving is all about—not brining your relatives with salty gravy, but those kitchen gaffes that can be retold in years to come. I’ll save the one about cooking a 26-pound turkey in an apartment-sized electric oven with the bottom element burnt out for another time.