Fifteen years after roasting my first Thanksgiving turkey my husband and I celebrated our first Thanksgiving in our house – previous years were in a series of apartments.
We invited a couple from down the street to celebrate with us. They lived a two hour drive from their family. She freely admitted that cooking rested at the bottom of her abilities.
The glitch? I worked in the medical field and this was my holiday to work.
No problem says the husband that could cook but had never roasted poultry. The three of them would start the turkey and I could finish things up when I got off work mid-afternoon. It would be a supper instead of noon meal. No sweat.
By the second or third phone call I knew something odd was going on. Was it my final instructions of the evening before? Had I forgotten something important?
In a word — Yes.
When husband went to stuff the pre-made dressing into the bird he remembered my instructions to fill the neck cavity. What he forgot was to look at the other end of the bird and fill the main cavity. Our guests? Didn’t have a clue.
Give thanks for…..friends, work, and extra cassarole dishes for dressing to bake aside the bird.
