No, not you. I’m not calling you a turkey. I’m sarcastically greeting my turkey breast, sitting in ice cold water right now. See, the label said thaw in the refrigerator for 24-48 hours. I let it thaw 36 hours. Yeah, guess what? Still frozen. Huge chunks of ice in the cavity. So much for my slow cooker turkey. Now it has to sit in cold water and I have to change the water every 30 minutes, and I have to cook it in the oven and I am not happy about it.
Now, church starts in 45 minutes and the pies are still in the oven, because I had planned to have the turkey in the slow cooker and now I can’t put the turkey in until the pies are done, which is like 17 minutes from now.
I had a plan. It was scripted. It was doable. It was even flexible. But here I am.
It’s not the end of the world. I don’t really even know why I made a turkey. It’s just John, me and my son. We’re having a big turkey dinner tomorrow at my mom’s. But I wanted to try a breast in the slow cooker.
Well, it was an otherwise successful morning in the kitchen. I had some good luck with a couple of the dishes I’m making for my columns in January. Turkey and blue cheese meatballs: thumbs up, and the aforementioned apple pie, still in the oven. Stay tuned.
And merry Christmas. I mean it.