This British Divorce Party Ain’t Over!

Ian stayed up from 10pm to 11am to smoke a turkey. Our turkey. Our planned post-Thanksgiving, post-apocalyptic shopping day, turkey. I did two Thanksgivings, and I made eggplant lasagna for one, a pumpkin-apple pie for another. But I never quite get enough of my own turkey during these events. We dialogued and came to terms with creating a meal Monday morning.

So he stayed up and did the outdoor labor. I, serving the auxiliary unit, took the after effects and made magic with them. From the leftover cabernet sauvignon, mangoes, strawberries, oranges, lemons, apples, cantaloupes and kiwis he used for the smoker, I created a concentrated bath for a sangria, ready to serve in 24 hours. From the drippings and offal, I made gravy good enough to eat on its own; started it like a roux, then slowly added more and more drippings ’til it was near fluid, then broke up the fried neckbone, poached liver, heart and gizzards and added for texture.

I broke down the bird to dark meat and white meat, having that one moment everyone else has when de-boning meat…considering how precise one would have to be if one had to take a human apart. Don’t act like you didn’t think that for, like, a millisecond!

Like any other granola I’ve met in Gulfport, Ian grows all kinds of food in his yard, and I got to take the sweet potatoes he’d pick a week ago and use those to make a sweet potato mash, peeled and boiled first, then helped along with 3/4 stick of buttery substance, ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon, and brown sugar.

I wish I could be sick of it, but dangit, I love food. Nice to know someone who’s just as serious and dedicated to big meal design as me!

With all the gorging I’ve done since last Tuesday, I’ve only managed to pack on 4 extra pounds. I’m about to get my Fat Girl Status Card revoked! Well, there is the whole ‘nother pot of drippings I could make into gravy. Mmmm, gravy. Mmmmm, biscuits. Biscuits! I haven’t made biscuits yet! Cue the celebration music: