This turkey has been in my freezer. It met me early this morning along with a sink full of dirty dishes. GG and I choose to watch Spencer Tracy doing a bad Portuguese accent in Captains Courageous over kitchen duty last night.
For Thanksgiving, my mother always ordered a fresh turkey from a local turkey farm...after we had all left home. Before that it was Duck. Duck. Duck. Duck. I haven't eaten a duck since 1970 something...around about the time she realized her farm hands were thinning out.
No. I don't feed them roast Ding Dongs. That's Dindon. C'est une jeune Dindon. Well it couldn't be too too young. It's been sitting in the freezer for a bit. I think maybe it should be Dindon jeune. But it's been a long time since I've practised my French. And then there is the question about the article...une ou un? Anyhow, this turkey is female. It is broad and short and plump. That means it's a female according to French Canadian Cooking expert, Madame Benoit. And she should know both her birds and her French.
As I recall, from Mr. Campbell's French class of 1973. The adjective follows the noun. But then should you have a Scotsman teach you French? He was always telling us to go and play in the traffic too. Madame Jacques would have been a better bet. She was French and even had been proposed to at the top of the Eiffel Tower. What do I know. This turkey is from Montreal. They should know their French there.
And we'll use sage surviving somehow out in my big old messy garden.
Bread is rising. I got that started earlier and will bake some buns after the pies. Cook some cranberries. These have been in the freezer too. See the frost?
Maybe add an orange. Cranberries a l'orange. And I have some sweet potatoes steamed and cooling and I'll do the same thing with them as I did with my squash pies.
And then I discovered we were out of salt...Fun was soaking his feet earlier this week. I had just enough for the buns. So, I ran to the General Store. And when I say ran I mean "ran." GG and Speedy took the only remaining vehicle to Town. But first I ran out the door and then ran back in the door when I noticed I was running with a dirty apron still attached.
While running I put my hand to my shirt pocket to keep the change from bouncing out. It was then I noticed caramel corn from last night's movie stuck to the front of my shirt. Ivan was pumping gas. I ran inside. Suzanne was eating lunch with their grandchildren. I ran back home. And while I think about it. I could have asked Suzanne which is correct. She's French. Jeune Dindon or Dindon Jeune.
Thanksgiving is tomorrow.
I have to feed some men.
Toby at Six Months
5 hours ago