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Thanksgiving: My turkey-frying husband

sunny 82 °F

For this Thanksgiving, my husband decided he wanted to fry a turkey. Actually, he has been trying to convince me that he should fry a turkey for years now.  "It is sooo much juicier", he would say. "Not greasy at all".  It cooks in no time.  It is the best turkey you will ever eat.  
Um, no.  I don't think it is a good idea. I had excuses of my own.  It is expensive to buy the equipment and all that oil.  I like regular baked turkey, especially when it is savory and brined.  I don't see what the big deal is, why to spend that extra effort. Most of all, I am concerned about the safety...

He likes the wow factor. Something new. And last year, our Thanksgiving was in Hawaii, as my sister's wedding was the day before Thanksgiving (I know...nice!)  We spent the Thanksgiving meal outside on the lawn of the Fairmont, a large table in front of the ocean eating a resort-meal, which was a first time Chris was not able to have his hands in the Thanksgiving meal preparations.  We didn't even have turkey, we had opakapaka fish. I thought he might waltz back into the kitchen and ask if they needed any help with the gravy.  

So this year, he had spent a lot of time thinking about the dinner menu.  He lives for these kinds of days.  He finally announced he would fry the turkey, since both of our families were coming to have Thanksgiving dinner with us in Hawaii.  He was in charge of the meal - his terf, his plan.

He bought the frier and the propane tank. He quarantined a spot in the yard.  He bought gallons of oil. Then he bought gallons more. He read the instructions and prepped the turkey on the metal hooks.  Finally it was time. Then he informed me he had to dunk the turkey repeatedly in the oil.  "I will be right back", I said, and ran to the nearest shopping market to find some oven mitts.  He only had potholders. I thought he needed a hazmat suit.  I made him promise he would wait the 20 minutes until I returned until he lifted the turrkey out of the fry oil.  I rush in the door with 2 huge mitts and there is a turkey, golden brown and steaming, sitting on a pan in the kitchen. What happened?!? "We couldnt wait", he said.  The men backed him up:  the turkey was done. you took too long. I suspected machismo...
At least I didnt have to witness it.

He had no burns on his arms, and was glowing at his prize.  In the end, it WAS a delicious, tender turkey for thanksgiving, and I was thankful for my husband still having all of the hair on his arms and eyebrows. And to have family all around my beaming 19 month old.  A fine meal, a day to gather and reflect on all of our blessings. Happy Thanksgiving to all. And may gratefulness fill the season.

Posted by globalmomma 14:07 Tagged turkey family cooking windy thanksgiving meal fried

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