Since the process of thawing the turkey is always OMG Dramatic!, I decided to live blog the experience. I thought it unfair of me to keep the pomp and circumstance of yanking on turkey wieners to myself. I'm nice like that.
Everyone knows that when I say "wiener" I mean "neck," right? If you've ever pulled a turkey's neck out its ass you know if feels just like a wiener. I assume. I've never actually tugged on a turkey wiener. Honestly, how sick do you guys think I am?
Speaking of sick, is it really necessary to shove the poor bird's neck up his bum? I know I've blogged about this before, but really? Really? If anyone knows where I can get a turkey with a clear anal cavity, let me know. I'd like one for next year, please.
As I said, I am live blogging, so check back often for updates. I have a feeling there's going to be A LOT. Bring wine.
Well, the turkey's been thawing in the fridge for 68 hours and is still frozen. Considering this has happened every year for the past three year, this surprises no one. Except me. "This year will be different!" said the village idiot.
Thought I'd give the neck a little yanky yanky and yep, still frozen. And so is my hand.
Ew, ew, ew! I DO NOT remember the sac of blood! Or kidney? Or liver? Or what the hell? Oh you guys, I just pulled on the sac of turkey crap and whatever and a big red blob oozed between my fingers and there is blood on my hand.
THERE IS BLOOD ON MY HAND!
Vomit in my mouth forever.
This is a disgusting holiday. I'm pretty sure that's understood and a completely unnecessary statement to make. But I was just covered in turkey blood so I'm pretty sure I can say whatever I want.
The husband came over for a little rubby rubby. I was all, "I love you, honey, but I just spent the last ten minutes chest deep in the cavity of a dead bird, so, um, no. Also? F*cking turkey blood!
Going back in for another wanky wanky. If I end up with turkey blood in my eyes or mouth *gag*, I'm leaving the house and never coming back.
The sac of blood is out! *happy dance* *heel clicks* *jazz hands*
Annnnd, there's more stuff. The bag has disintegrated and its contents are spread throughout the chest cavity. This is just like hunting for Easter eggs but with more dead animal parts.
You guys! There are more red blobs! Big ones. Yuge! And squishy looking. Idon'twannatouchit. Idon'twannatouchit. Idon'twannatouchit.
There's another one. Oh lawd, there's another. It's like this turkey hates me.
So. Much. Crying.
Oh hello, box of wine in my fridge. Yes, I will be drinking all of you right now.
Update #13The turkey's neck is out. A bit of advice for the ladies: don't paint your nails the night before turkey wiener yanking day. The vigor and aggressiveness with which you will yank will rub the polish right off your nails.
The more you know.
This year, I decided to do a wet brine in a bag as opposed to my tried and true, I know exactly what to do dry brine method. Because trying new and complicated things in already stressful situations is always a good idea. Basically, the process involves spending $427 at Williams Sonoma on a jar of brine and a few bags in which to stick your turkey. I boiled the brine last night and its been chilling in the fridge and getting all briney. It is now time to stick the turkey in the bag and cover it with brine. Any guesses on how many things will go wrong? My guess? ALL OF THEM.
Got soap inside the bag. Don't even ask.
Getting 2nd bag...
There isn't a second bag. Not a big one, anyway. There are two small ones, but they aren't big enough to stick a turkey wiener in.
Rinsing out first bag...
"Yum! This turkey tastes like soap!" said all my guests.
I just dumped brine all over the counter and floor because of course I did.
Update #17Turkey is in bag, in pan, inside fridge. And all God's children said, "Amen!"
Whose idea was this holiday? They should have their neck shoved up their butt.