So this is the first year I’ve decided to actually cook the turkey. Normally that little gem falls to someone else in the family. My uncle, maybe, or my aunt. My grandfather unlikely, but maybe. My mother, usually, or my sister. A few weeks ago I got it into my head that I was going to have a full Thanksgiving dinner this year. Which is dumb, because I live in New York. On my own. And I don’t really know anyone here.

But I decided it and people who know me know that when I decide on something, I usually stick to it. So, here I am, working on a turkey. It’s in the oven. The smell of bacon and chicken is hanging in the air right now from the green bean casserole, and I’m just trying to wrap my head around the amount of food I’ve decided to cook today.

But the turkey, I hope it will be my crowning accomplishment of cooking this month. I have spent the last three and a half days getting it prepared to cook today. I prepared a salt brine. I took some fresh garlic, paprika, salt, and ice. Put that in the fridge on Sunday. Since Monday I’ve been soaking the bird in that juice, and now it is in the oven.

In my last post, I talked about the baste that I made for the turkey. I was finally able to use my brush and paint that bird with that dirty brown-colored liquid all over that pale pink flesh. I then turned to Alexa, (she’s my Echo; keep up.) I turned to Alexa, and I said: “Hey, Alexa, slap a timer on there for 45 minutes would you?” and of course she didn’t understand me because she’s a computer. So I had to say, “Alexa: Start timer, 45 minutes.”

In a few minutes, I’ll go put a second coating of basting on, and I’ll then start working on something for the crescent rolls. I have an idea…

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