The Turkey

Undeniably the most stressful part of preparing a Thanksgiving feast is The Turkey. First, you must find the perfect turkey. In Denmark, it's difficult enough just to find a whole turkey, let alone a particularly beautiful one. Second, you face a difficult decision: to baste or not to baste. Some websites call for it, some don't, and some recommend buying a self-basting turkey. (This concept makes me chuckle, because I only imagine the turkey wing automatically extending to self-baste in a motion akin to a self-cleaning litterbox.) In the end, I took the easy way out and made a tent of aluminum foil that reflected a lot of the steam and juices back onto the turkey breast. I think my host mom took care of most of the seasoning when she dumped half the salt-shaker on the bird when my back was turned. Third, perhaps the toughest of all, is how to judge when the turkey is done. This caused me much anxiety. My host mom kept cracking semi-serious jokes about how the turkey wouldn't be ready to eat in less than six hours if we set the oven at anything less than 250˚C. For those of you who don't bake in C, that's almost 500˚F!!! I allowed her to turn up the oven for 10 minutes just to raise the oven temperature, then I took it back down to the recommended range. Luckily, I soon had back-up in the turkey department. Family friend Ellen came over and taught me the poke-and-squeeze technique for checking if the turkey is done cooking (stick with a skewer or knife deep into the breast, press hard with a fork next to the hole, and watch the juice that bubbles up for blood). With her help, I managed to get the turkey out of the oven and ready to serve a mere 45 minutes after the proposed dinner time. Not bad for an amateur Thanksgiving chef!