Nice Giblets, Baby!

Admit it, do you ever get that urge to break tradition? It’s been the same thing year after year: turkey, stuffing (prepackaged or homemade and subsequently cubed versus crumbed), mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberries (whole or jellied), sweet potatoes (with or without marshmallows), a couple of vegetables, and a lovely assortment of pies. As much as we embrace ritual, every once in a while I wonder, “What would the family do if I served burgers for Thanksgiving?”

One year we got a “this is your life” perspective on video including the meal preparation, everyone stuffing their faces, then sprawling on the sofa moaning, “I ate too much.” Many of the out-takes could be eligible for one of those funny video shows, my favorite being my aunt’s German Shepherd licking the top of the apple pie for good luck.

Too bad we captured no footage of the first year I lived on my own and graciously offered to host Thanksgiving dinner. This was my chance to prove that even though I flunked Home Economics, by golly I could cook. I woke up very early in the morning and set the turkey on the counter. Thankfully I had my helpful mother on the phone guiding me through each step. “Yeah, the wrapper’s off, uh huh, it’s thawed. You want me to stick my hand WHERE? No way, YOU come over here and do it!”

Okay, so the turkey’s dead, but I felt like I was violating the poor thing. Brilliant packaging engineers go to great lengths to take all the innards OUT of the bird, so why do they stick them back inside? Some guys at the Turkeys ‘R Us manufacturing plant were bored one day, or perhaps had been driven insane be the constant sound of gobbling, when the following discussion ensued:
1st guy: Wow, this stuff is really nasty looking, what is it?
2nd guy: It’s the liver, neck, and giblets.
1st guy: What the heck’s a “giblet?”
2nd guy: I don’t know.
3rd guy: Hey, I have a brilliant idea, why don’t we take this stuff, wrap it in a little bag, and shove it up the turkey’s backside so we can irritate folks during what’s supposed to be a warm family time?

They thought they could succeed with this evil plot, but NOOOO, some twisted culinary geniuses just had to go and get creative on us. “Aren’t you going to prepare giblet gravy?” Not until I know what a “giblet” is!

Our family ritual is probably much like that of many other families. We get up in the morning, realize we bought the turkey slightly too late so we have to thaw it in cold water. Meanwhile, we watch the parade, oohing and ahhing over the large balloons that take a cast of hundreds to tether.

Do you ever wonder, “Did the Pilgrims do this?” Of course not, because they didn’t have television with an overabundance of bowl games. What did they do while the turkey was cooking? Admire one another’s funky hats and shoes? Were the kids just as nasty? “No, it’s your turn to set the table, dorkwad!”

Did the young women get initiated into domestic goddess hood in a similar fashion? I thought I had it bad just sticking my hand in the turkey’s “body cavity.” They had to remove giblets not neatly packaged in a bag. And how did they know when the bird was fully cooked as they did not have the modern invention of that little timer that pops out at supposedly just the right moment? There was no bickering over whole or jellied cranberries. However, they had to pick their own cranberries from a bog. I have never visited a bog, but I envision a rather nasty, mucky place. I’d much rather open a can.

At least they didn’t have to ponder the age-old question “Stovetop stuffing or mashed potatoes?”