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Some people just cook turkey better than others

Fried Rice
Heidi Rice
Glenwood Springs, CO Colorado

“I thought we were going to have a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving!” husband-head protested when he saw me making preparations for the holiday. “Why can’t we just have popcorn and toast at a ping-pong table like Chuck and the gang?”

I looked up from polishing the silver and shook my head.

“No dear, we have company coming tomorrow and we’re going to have a nice, traditional dinner in the dining room,” I informed him. “But you’ll be happy to know the turkey this year is a boneless breast, so it won’t look like what it used to be.”



Husband-head hates to eat anything that resembles its original form.

“Good,” he agreed. “Because I’m tired of you either dropping the turkey on the floor and hoping I didn’t hear or cooking the thing with the bag of giblets in it. You’ve done that three times now. …”



It was true.

“Yeah well, let’s not get into the annual butchering of the bird,” I accused. “Sometimes you can’t tell if its turkey or corned beef hash.”

“At least I don’t poison the company!” he shot back, referring to the Thanksgiving when I accidentally gave one of our guests two really strong painkillers instead of aspirin for his headache.

We both stuck our tongues out at each other.

I finished polishing the silver and moved on to the next task. Trying to find the white linen table cloth, china, matching napkins and serving bowls.

It had been awhile since we’d invited guests over for Thanksgiving. Typically, husband-head and I eat off paper plates in front of the TV and wipe our mouths on our sleeves.

“If you were the matching napkins to the china, where would you be?” I asked husband-head as I searched high and low.

“You mean the ones we haven’t used since we were first married?” husband-head replied. “I think I used them to change the oil in my truck.”

Ha-ha.

I finally located the elusive napkins and proceeded to set the table with the sterling silver, crystal glasses and china. I put fresh flowers as a centerpiece with candles on either side.

“You know, Heidi Stewart, I’d be just as happy with a bag of pretzels and a beer watching football in front of the TV,” husband-head said when I had finished. “I don’t know why you go to all this trouble.”

Yes, Hungry-Man dinners for four would be quite impressive.

The next morning, I was on the couch with my feet up watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade when husband-head woke up around 10 a.m.

“Ummm … are we forgetting something?” husband-head said as he stared at me lounging around. “Isn’t there the little matter of a turkey with all the trimmings that is supposed to be ready in a few hours when our guests get here?”

“I’ve got it under control,” I assured him, smiling to myself.

Husband-head looked at me doubtfully and went upstairs to take a shower and get ready for some football.

When he came down, I was still on the couch.

“Alright now, this isn’t funny anymore,” husband-head said as he stared at me in a panicked kind of way. “The guests will be here in THREE HOURS.”

“I think I’m going to go paint my toenails,” I responded lazily and headed to the bathroom. “And then maybe I’ll do a quick color on my hair and bleach my teeth.”

Husband-head just looked at me in disbelief.

“This one’s worse than the cooked giblets,” he said, shaking his head. “People are going to come over and we’re going to have frozen turkey with no side dishes. We might end up with popcorn and toast after all. By the way, where IS the turkey?”

“Oh, that’s right. I should probably get to the grocery store,” I informed him, watching the horrified look on his face.

But I returned with a large bag that contained a full Thanksgiving dinner, complete with a 3-pound rotisserie cooked turkey breast, cornbread stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry relish, pan rolls and a pumpkin pie.

“See?” I boasted as husband-head looked at me with relief. “I ordered it days ago and they did all the work for me ” for under $40! All I have to do is warm it up.”

After dinner was over and the guests had gone, husband-head turned to me.

“I’m glad we didn’t end up with popcorn and toast,” he admitted. “That was delicious. And no offense, but the deli people cook a turkey way better than you.”

Heidi Rice is a staff reporter for the Post Independent. Her columns runs every Friday. Visit her Web site at http://www.heidirice.com.


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