The morning of, we patted the turkey dry, stuck an halved orange up its ass, sewed it shut, placed it on a metal rack that we put inside some cheap aluminum pans (the metal rack raised the turkey high enough to collect the juices in the pan for the gravy) and cooked it for about 4-5 hours on around 400. We did use an internal digital thermometer. We covered the turkey for about 3/4 of the cooking time. It was fucking amazing. The gravy was ridiculously easy. The drippings were so good, all it needed was a bit of flour to thicken and boom, thats it, amazing gravy.
Here is the marinating process:
The night before, I spent an unnatural amount of time making stuffed mushrooms.
This was another grandma recipe. Pork and chopped meat squished with a fork into tiny little bits, with a ton of finely chopped garlic, onion, red pepper, green pepper, the mushroom stems, zucchini and also some parmesan. Really, what took so long was the chopping everything into teeny tiny itty bitty little bits.
I think they came out EXACTLY like grandma's. For the most part that is my goal in cooking- to be as good as grandma.
I get an intense pleasure from feeding people. It makes me feel like a complete woman. That's very problematic, I know. But whaddya gonna do. One of my old bosses told me never to cook for men. She said she used to cook in her first marriage, but that her new boyfriend doesn't know that she knows how to cook. I didn't quite understand her. Maybe she didn't want to attract a traditional guy? Didn't want someone to fall in love with her because she cooks? I gotta say, when I first met Mark and ever since, boy did I cook for him. But he cooks for me too. And most of the time, we cook together, which I love and think is super fun.
How else do you think we both gained 50lbs since we met each other? (BUT!! I have since lost 15 of those nasty pounds! Blech!)
Anyway. This is Thanksgiving at our place.
And this is after we ate.