This song could have been my theme song this weekend. Let's just say, my Thanksgiving turkey was awesome. It looked awesome; it tasted awesome; it was an awesome culinary moment in my life.
I started with a Fresh Young Turkey from Maple Lawn Farms, a local farm that feeds their turkeys nothing but love. I picked mine up at MOM's Organic Market in Jessup on 175. I gave him a name: THE ONE.
Williams Sonoma Apple & Spices Turkey Brine to make him moist and juicy. I rubbed olive oil, fresh cracked salt, pepper, and garlic into his skin.
I stuffed fresh apples into him so they would roast and add a delightful fragrance.
I even tossed in some onions and garlic that I lightly whacked.
I put him in a 500 degree oven for 30 minutes to make his skin brown and crispy, and then I lowered the oven temperature to 325 degrees, covered him with foil, and slow roasted him to perfection.
I even decorated him with fresh sage, thyme, and parsley straight from my garden!
I turned out a culinary accomplishment. I made a Thanksgiving turkey and I didn't screw it up! It was a proud moment...and I was feeling the awesomeness of accomplishment. I rode the high of the awesomeness righhhhht up until I did this...
Ever burn a bag of popcorn in the microwave?
The scent is somewhere between wretched and stank with a smidge of noxious in between.
This was one of those single serving bags. It says on the bag to set the timer for 3 minutes and then wait for the popping of the kernels to slow down until there's 1-3 seconds between the pops. To be on the safe side, I pushed the "popcorn" preset. Two minutes and 40 seconds. No prob.
I knew I was never going to live it down as soon as I saw the smoke trailing out of the microwave. When I opened the door, a plume of black smoke rolled out.
A PLUME of thick smoke.
It filled the entire kitchen.
I was throwing open windows trying to bring some clean air in.
As I was using a kitchen towel to furiously wave the smoke outside, I have to admit that part of me was proud. I mean, if I'm going to burn popcorn, I want to go all the way. As my kid brother would say, "Go big or go home!!"
I went big alright.
And I'm never going to live it down.
My father just told me the odor was lingering. I told him not to worry. It should be gone by his birthday...in February.
Oh, Lorrrrrrrd, it's so hard to be humbllllllllle.