Denise vs. the Turkey. (Because I hate suspense, Ill give you this storys ending first. I won). Recently I was given a 20 pound frozen turkey. Since my family doesnt have a great appreciation for roasted turkey except on Thanksgiving, it made sense to turn it into dog food and treats. I started in the sink with a pair of poultry shears, a partially defrosted turkey, and a few bowls in which to organize the pieces. Let me tell you that poultry shears are a joke. Poultry clearly means a quail, because these things arent going to cut much more than that. Regardless, they arent doing any good at all on a 20 pound turkey. After 15 minutes, Ive managed to remove the skin, cut off the breasts for the family and sliced my finger. Im covered in sweat and my hands are killing me. There are globs of fat on the counters and in the sink. This isnt working. I have a cleaver but having just cut my finger with scissors Im thinking I should hold off on that option. Time for the big guns. Off to the front yard. I brought out the cutting board but then quickly abandon that since the turkey keeps sliding off and anyway, I cant see that it makes a difference if the turkey picks up some dirt and twigs. Using the biggest garden pruning shears I have, I go to work on that turkey. Now were talking! With single snaps Im able to part out that bird in no time. Ive got wings and legs and backs and chunks of meat for treats. When I finished I picked up all of the pieces and put them on a serving platter that I had brought out of the house for that purpose. Another 30 minutes and Im totally set. It wasnt until this morning that it occurred to me that the neighbors may well have thought that I was preparing that turkey for our Easter dinner.
Posted on: Mon, 21 Apr 2014 16:45:18 +0000
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