This Sunday we bade farewell to our flock of Bronze turkeys (purchased as poults from O.C. McCuin's store in town) and embraced the annual dilemma of how to properly cook another 40-pound bird without cremating it.
For the past few years we have grown these big beautiful birds for friends and family with some to sell besides. This time the weights ranged from 22lbs. to 38lbs.; the most requested size is always nineteen pounds, but we just can't grow a 19 lb. bird - or any in fact, that are all the same size. Our processing crew is all-volunteer, and each receives a fresh turkey for their labors.
I may have forgotten to mention it to all of our helpers but the smallest Boucher Farm turkey is destined for the table of Marion Burros, who writes a food column for the New York Times. It's a big deal for me, but most of the people I have told this to have no idea who she is.
The largest, or the bird that's left on the shelf after everyone else has come to get his or hers - is mine to deal with for the holiday meal.
Now, I just can't stuff a turkey the size of a small engine into my standard oven. Even if I find a foil roasting pan large enough, I still have to be strong enough and lucky enough to lift it in and out without spilling it on to the floor, hoping the bottom rack doesn't bow and break, and then block the door shut with a two-by-four. Never again.
We've had recent luck with deep-frying, which gives a juicier bird in a fraction of the time. It also has the advantage of being a style of cooking that my husband Dan takes responsibility for, so I can fuss over things like lumps in the gravy. In previous years, the whole bird had been too endowed for the largest size pot that fits the propane fire ring (also from McCuin's). As a result the legs stuck out of the oil and the thighs turned coal black. It made a heck of a mess in the garage and left a lingering odor of cold French fries. I think we have realized the maximum potential of the outdoor fryer for cooking our special size of turkey and need to be heading in a new direction.
I've heard tell of a "garbage can turkey", but I haven't seen one attempted or tried one, so I had to abandon thoughts of springing it on my husband's relatives at Thanksgiving. Ditto for Colonial open pit spit roasting.
This year, I'm cooking the breast and legs separately. Legs on one grill, breast on the other, leaving the oven free for side dishes and warming rolls. I may even venture into brining. Can barbeque bird become the newest family tradition? It will have to if we continue raising turkeys to the size of small sheep.
