I got this big plastic container to brine the turkey in, lest you think me to be some brineless crybaby. Alton Brown uses a five gallon bucket, but this turkey is ridiculous. It's too big for the full fridge, so I have it in a cooler with my new, wired thermometer probe. The alarm will sound if the air in the cooler goes above 38 degrees.
The wired in-oven meat thermometer is the best innovation in cooking ever. I can't believe my father doesn't have one yet.
What I'm putting out on Thursday is:
Wheat-free pasta salad with asiago.
Gigantic cheese platter with proschiutto rolled mozzerella, herb cheddar, regular cheddar, swiss, Laughing Cow wedges, cheese ball and I don't remember what.
Veggie platter with Boursin cheese.
Olive tray with collasal almond stuffed olives, black olives, pickled okra, artichoke hearts, banana peppers and Splenda gherkins.
Lit'l Smokies
Summer Sausage and four kinds of crackers
Four damn pounds of different grapes.
Turkey and gravy
My mother's cranberry recipe
Redskin mashed potatoes
Yams
Fresh green beans with toasted almonds
My mother's Praline Pumpkin Pie recipe
Puffed pastry squares with brie and raspberry preserves and damn I wish I could eat them.
Sometime between now and Thursday I have to prep all of this, including the brining--while also finishing a Ribcage story and polishing my original essay for the Random House contest. It's currently a little long. 4,200 words is a little too close to their 5,000 cutoff for my tastes.
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