Don’t be put off by the heading ‘Frankenturkey’. That’s just a reference to the method one mom came up with to make sure that all her boys could have the part of the Thanksgiving Bird they coveted most. I have no reason not to believe this holiday tale, from a dear, old friend…
The Holidays used to be happy times, when extended families get together to celebrate the season and re-cement old, cherished relationships. The only things people disagreed over were football, and board games in the back bedroom where the kids were sequestered while the ladies struggled to get dinner on the table.
___________
Extra Turkey Legs:
Easy to roast up in
a separate pan…
___________
Now-a-days, things are different, but I am advised that families do, in fact, get together for Thanksgiving and Christmas the way they used to, even though individuals from various age groups spend their mingling time differently.
I have it on good authority that the teens in one such family gathering last year sat around the TV room with the set on but ignored, and spent hours texting each other across the room – their idea of re-cementing, I guess.
But my story for today hails back to the 60s, when life was so much simpler. (Where have I heard that before?)
The Turkey trot
There was always a stampede for the dining table, once the dinner bell rang, by all the grown-up boys in the crowd who all wanted a Leg. The two conventional legs on the Bird of Honour were always reserved for the male elders of the clan, though, and the younger guys had to fight over the Thighs and Wings (see picture, top of page). Knowing this was inevitable, Granny made sure the Turkey Thighs and the Wing Drummies were carved in such a way as to preserve as much meat on the bones as possible.
But as the younger guys grew older, got married and took on a larger share of the family responsibilities, it became clear something had to be done to equalize the Turkey Leg situation. The issue actually became the focus of a serious, high-level adult conversation one Holiday, and all involved agreed that the Boys were now Men and deserved appropriate respect.
What Grannie said
“Leave it to me,” Grannie declared as the debate began to dissolve into expressions of frustration and stressed-out side whispers. Everybody assumed she would cook two Turkeys – each somewhat smaller than the usual 25 lb. / 55 kg monster. That would provide two more Legs, at least, and that would probably be enough to quell the grumbling for a while, anyway.
What she did
Come next Thanksgiving, Grannie assured everyone that the Turkey Leg Problem would be taken care of. But she wouldn’t say how, nor would she let any of the other ladies peek into the oven to see what she had in her washtub-sized roasting pan.
When the dinner bell rang, everyone settled themselves at the table as usual – but one thing was missing: The Turkey.
Grannie, wiping her hands on her pinafore apron, announced that Grandpa would be bringing in the Bird momentarily and, for the first time any of the younger folks remembered, it would be carved by him at the table.
All eyes moved to the archway between the Kitchen and the Dining room, and they waited. After a few seconds, which seemed like forever, Grandpa appeared behind a large platter with a mammoth shape on it, tented under foil to conceal the surprise. Placing his burden carefully on the table, he turned it over to Grannie, who whisked the foil off the platter to reveal… A six-legged Turkey!
Grannie seemed inordinately proud of herself, having asked the Butcher to sew extra Legs onto her chosen Bird.
The takeaway
That approach not only spawned about a dozen different versions of the tale among those present, but managed to keep the Boys happy for a few more years, until Grannie passed on and Grandpa became Elder-emeritus at the feast, which was then held on a rotating basis at the homes of his various sons and daughters.
What Holiday tales will today’s kids tell?
Who knows. But I’m afraid they’ll involve cell phones, pre-cooked Turkeys delivered via Grub Hub, and frozen Sides, lovingly re-heated by their Baby Boomer and Millennial elders…
~ Maggie J.