The holiday season always brings out my Inner Curmudgeon.
I won’t bore you with a crabby, cliché-riddled tirade against materialism and the mania that infects our nation during the calendar’s final months. You’ve heard that many times by now, and you’re either down with it or you’re down at the mall.
But there are other things we do, sabotaging our own best interests in the name of Holiday Spirit. We do them unconsciously. We never question them. To do so would be heresy. So that’s what I aim to do.
We have all done it; we’ve all striven to recreate that Normal Rockwell picture. The family sits gathered at the table, faces all scrubbed and shiny, the place settings done to Martha Stewart perfection, awaiting the Great Reveal. Then the time arrives, the grand moment when the chef of the house emerges from the kitchen, plattered gustatory masterpiece in hand, and sets it down among a constellation of traditional sides, their aromatic steam rising in thready wisps.
This is the image. This is the picture we attempt to recreate. We stress and fret and plan and organize and bicker, and what we end up with is a shadow, a phantom of that mental picture. It looks right, but it’s empty; yet we enjoy it. We enjoy it because it is tradition, we enjoy it because it’s familiar. We enjoy it because we always have enjoyed it and we don’t want to not enjoy it.
But I have to be honest with you; the best holiday meals I’ve had are the ones that broke with tradition, the meals that went “outside the box.” Over the years, I’ve questioned and re-imagined every aspect of the holiday meal, from appetizer to yams. Every aspect except one.
Let’s talk turkey.
I’ve tried a dozen methods of cooking turkey. I’ve steamed them in bags (paper and plastic), I’ve roasted them in ovens, I’ve barbecued them on grills. I’ve prepped them with rubs, with brines, and with marinades. I’ve set temps high-then-low, and I’ve set them low-then-high. But all these methods have been a futile endeavor to give the domestic American turkey something it doesn’t have: succulence and flavor. In the end I get the same thing every time: a large amount of bland-tasting meat flavored only by whatever spices I took a fancy to throw at it.
In short, turkey is boring. It’s so boring, in fact, that I’ve decided to forego them in the future. Turkey simply isn’t worth the effort.
I love to cook, and when I cook for others, it’s an expression of love. To be frank, I’d rather serve my holiday guests a top-notch burger that makes their eyes roll back in their heads than another plate carved from the Wonder Bread of the poultry world.
So, from now on, I’m going to start thinking completely outside the box. Traditions be damned. I’ll entertain most anything—goose, duck, pheasant, capon, rack of lamb, filet mignon, hamburgers, or nut-loaf—whatever it takes to make the meal taste good, rather than simply look good.
Yes. Nut loaf.
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We went to Buca De Beppo on Thanksgiving this year. We also passed on their turkey-like offerings. I’m guessing I didn’t need anything to do with their turkey-like offerings…
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Looks good! I’ve never tried them (didn’t even know we had one in the neighborhood). Looks like it would be more fun to dine in than takeaway. Yes?
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I have had numerous culinary mis-adventures over the years. This year no tree, no tinsel, a killer Ratatouille with bulgur, a Mont Blanc for Dessert, with pears and Port Salut beginnings with a sip of Prosecco, rousing series of Crockinole games with my son and his brood – in other words, simply a fun evening with a novel twist. My grand-daughter is a typically avid competitor of 6, and it will be her first Mont Blanc Christmas eve, something I had done for the first time when my son was also 6. He adores chestnuts, and of course, there must be a few conkers set aside to make pigs, with cut and flapped chestnut ears and toothpick legs. No dry bird will ever more pass my lips or those of anyone breaking bread with me. G
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I had never heard of Mont Blanc (except, obviously, the fountain pen) but ooohhhh does that sound good. I will definitely be trying that this year. And your whole Xmas eve sounds wonderful. My wife, also, has decided she does not want to decorate (first time ever, for her) — though between you and me, I’m pretty sure we’ll have wreaths on the front doors. I’m interested, too, in the chestnut pigs, so I will Google that, as well. Is it me, or does a properly roasted and sliced chestnut look just like a dissected brain? I was thinking of cioppino and polenta for Xmas eve, and a jambalaya or paella for Xmas. But the duck I cooked last week was soooo good… Decisions, decisions. Thanks for the story!
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One year I was at someone’s house for Thanksgiving and we had a ToFurkey. No offense to vegetarians, but that was some disgusting stuff.
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Well, now…that’s exactly what I am talking about. All form, no content. My First Love, a lifelong vegetarian, is the one who does a damned fine nut loaf for holiday meals. Tofurkey is as good as it sounds, and the carnivore equivalent, turducken, is as bad as it sounds.
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