Who wants a taste of my gravy?
Published November 23rd, 2007 in A day in the lifeThere’s nothing like the morning after thanksgiving. I don’t know about everybody else, but it’s the only day of the year where I wake up in pain, confused, disoriented, and somehow positive that the one thing that can restore my equilibrium is Stove Top stuffing.
As an added bonus, Wonder Woman had to go to work today. I realize that that sounds mean, but please understand how much enjoyment I derive out of making fun of her. (Hi, baby! Wish you were here!) Of course I like spending time with her, but even at this point in our relationship there are activities that I enjoy that she doesn’t understand, so today I’m like Ferris Bueller, if Ferris had no desire to see or experience anything other than food-based hedonism and naps. For instance, I can positively say that if I wanted to sit around my apartment today writing a blog post while wearing nothing but a thin layer of turkey grease, I could do it! Hypothetically of course. (giggle)
Here are some of the things I was thinking about yesterday instead of all the things I’m grateful for:
Ask anyone over the age of 25 and they’ll tell you that Thanksgiving is the best day of the year, because Christmas and Channuccquah (you don’t know how to spell it either) suck once you’re responsible for buying OTHER people presents. Meanwhile everybody likes eating. I bet that every November, other countries watch and wish that they’d had American Indians in their country a couple hundred years ago. (What’s up NOW, China!?!)
If people are anything like me, there are certain elements that they require at a Thanksgiving dinner, and it’s upsetting if things aren’t right. For instance, two years ago, we went to a member of WW’s extended family. They are tremendously sweet people; sweet to a fault, in fact. They had invited vegetarians and VEGANS (for fuck’s sake…VEGANS!) and tried to be accommodating hosts, meaning that we had one good turkey and a bunch of crappy side dishes. In my opinion, Thanksgiving should be the one day of the year that it is legal to hunt vegans for sport. We left hungry. I intend to forgive them in eight more years. Yesterday, as we were walking to her parent’s house, WW informed me that we wouldn’t be having gravy and her parents don’t have cable, so, no TV. They say when you marry someone, you marry their whole family. Well, right there, you see two big reasons why I’m still not ready to marry WW. They’re nice and all, but that only counts three hundred and sixty FOUR days of the year. I think I’d actually prefer it if they were anti-Semitic. But instead of breaking up with her, I decided to make the damn gravy myself. (She’s lucky that coin landed heads-side up!) And y’know what? It was awesome. It was full of my favorite flavor: righteousness. Our love is renewed.
As much as people idealize the Thanksgivings of their childhoods, I have to say, my brother has a damn good one going with his in-laws. He married into a gigantic, close-knit family, and they understand what the holiday is all about: old-fashioned patriarchic family values. By which I mean that on Thanksgiving, men don’t do SHIT. The only thing they are responsible for is the deep-fried turkey (there are usually one or two others), meaning one guy stands outside watching it, and the rest come out to bring him a beer, let him know the score or tell him when a particularly good play was made. (If they feel up for it, they might act the play out.) Other than that, all they have to do is eat, drink, play with the kids, and wake up when the pie is ready. They don’t even clean, yet the women are all cool with it, because it’s Thanksgiving. I still haven’t figured out how they set that up; all I know is that it makes Charlie’s day at the Chocolate Factory look quaint.
Uh oh - in all this reminiscing my grease-coat has gotten dry. Time for another Thanksgiving sandwich* and gravy rub-down. Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!
*Turkey, stuffing, gravy and cranberry sauce…on bread. Because non-edible plates are for chumps.
z, Please have a Thanksgiving sandwich waiting for me because I’ll be home momentarily. Patriarchic my ass. I need a man who can cook for me! Also, it’s no longer technically Thanksgiving, so time for the men to step back into reality.
Also, readers please note that z may say that he’s still not ready to marry me, but he keeps bringing up the topic completely unsolicited…
Happy Thanksgiving!
I remember when Wil taught me to make gravy. Fry flour in butter, add water after it darkens. What I didn’t know is that that is a recipe for white gravy. While that is delicious with biscouts and fried chicken, it is kind of weird with turkey. That of course didn’t stop me from showing off my new skill after learning it and what does one do on Thanksgiving? Cook way too much. Though my mom was thrilled to have about a gallon of white gravy flavored with a touch of turkey grease, she was quick enough on her feet to whip up a bit of instant gravy in 2 minutes so the rest of the guests didn’t have to find out what kind of a culinary disappointment her son was.
That doesn’t sound like a recipe I want to take credit for. We’re doing a whole extra turkey today to make turkey pie. Mmmmmm, turkey pie.
Why doesn’t your family have gravy WW? He’s the most popular student at Thanksgiving High. What do they fill their mashed potato reservoir with?
Well thought I was taught that a roux or however you spell it is the base for every gravy. Maybe I was wrong.
oh, you gotta have a roux. But here’s what I did. I deglazed the turkey pan* with chicken stock. Then once the roux got a bit brown I mixed in the stock/turkey bit mixture until I had sweet sweet gravy.
Then I did my victory dance, and sneered in superiority at all of WW’s family. (They weren’t looking at me at the time, but I would bet they still felt it.)
*By the way, WW’s mom made her turkey in the microwave. And it was really good. Even the white meat, which sits in the back of the stomach bus as far as my culinary segregation goes.
Not that I’ll recreate that which sounds like an abomination, but could I please see the recipe for microwaved turkey? That must also be one big ass microwave to fit something bigger than a chicken.
If you set your hot water heater high enough you could probably cook potatoes in a dish washer.
I know you are supposed to be really nice and eat everything with a smile when your at your girlfriend’s parents house, but I don’t know if I could have kept my cool over microwaved turkey. Below is a video of how I might react. Just replace the word “coffee” with “turkey” and the word “crystals” with the phrase “that has been cooked in a microwave”
http://myspacetv.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=544067
Microwaved turkey? As part of a family that makes 4 turkeys on Thanksgiving (one fried, one on the weber grill, one smoked and a traditional oven turkey) I am with OG. I think that knocks WW down from “eternity band” to paper clip bent in a circle like fashion in my wedding ring suggestion book. Jesus.
I think this sound like an excellent recipe. Boil the turkey for 2 hours and then microwave for three.
A
I swear - if I hadn’t been told about the microwave I never would have guessed. Look, you guys know me - I have NO problem voicing my displeasure. To this day I still bitch about that vegan travesty a couple years ago. This turkey was good. Have I had better? Yes. But I’ve got a pretty big microwave, and for how much it cuts down on time and effort, I might be having a Thanksgiving in March next year.
That being said, I think Thunder Lizard has some great points about the paper clip.
Apparently you all have not grown up eating with WW’s parents throughout the years. If you had, you would 1) be fully aware that all dairy products are low-fat, reduced-fat, no-fat, non-dairy and rarely resemble an actual dairy product.
2) be not a bit surprised that the turkey was cooked in the microwave and
3) be shocked that they allowed anything that tastes as good as gravy and may have the potential to clog their arteries just by setting their eyes on it to be made in their kitchen.
But then again, WW’s mom is the sister of a man who thinks 3 week old wine that has turned to vinegar is perfectly acceptable to serve to his wife and daughter the day after thanksgiving for a “nice dinner.” (that would be my dad)
So on behalf of the gene pool that thinks non dairy dairy products, microwaved turkey and vingerary wine are all acceptable food items, please propose to WW so someone in our family will be able to cook!