The new home for our biggest tom is… in our refrigerator.
I don’t know how much he weighs because my digital scale only goes to 15 pounds and apparently Tom weighs more than that. When I put him on the sale after being dressed, it could only tell me “Err”. I think it meant error, but a disgruntled err works too. I’d be a bit mad if I had a hulk of a turkey sitting on me.
So after his ice bath, he ended up in a sea salt brine in the fridge. The thing was, he didn’t fit in those special turkey bags they have at the butcher counter in the market. So we used a food-grade bucket we got from the bakery. He is currently labeled as “35 pounds of Bavarian Cream”.
Thursday morning he should hop right into my oven, cover himself with foil (because he is skinless), and then he will baste himself every 30 minutes. That is, if he fits in the oven. There is some dispute on that one. Trevor thinks he will fit fine. I think there will be an inch or less of space before he hits the top heating element.
Only Turkey Day will reveal the correct party. What are you other Americans doing for Thanksgiving?