Giving Thanks
November 30th, 2008 by Margie

I always say that life is either a good time or a good story, and if you are really, really lucky, it’s BOTH! This Thanksgiving was definitely both, thanks to a good sense of humor that seems to run in my family.
In all my efforts to bring you closer to your growing community and bring myself closer to my own food source, I decided that I would cook a heritage bird this year. At the last minute Alice Mills, one of the farmers, called and offered an opportunity for me to buy a turkey from a nearby farmer. He had two birds still unclaimed and these organic heritage turkeys have been sold out in this area for awhile. I said yes, of course, and made plans to get my bird when I picked up veggies on Tuesday.
The farmer that was “processing” the turkey was a bit late getting to The Mills Farm so I waited around for my special package, knowing that I had made the decision for this bird to die. Weird feeling. The bird was on a farm doing fine until I said “yes, I want that 12 lb. tom.” Jay pulled up and on the back of the truck was a cooler, filled with white garbage bags and in each bag was a turkey prepped for a holiday dinner. I got my bird, although I couldn’t look at it much when he opened it. I just kept thinking that I ordered this poor bird’s death. Well, at least I am coming to terms with the reality of eating meat.
Thanksgiving morning….
I woke up and thought that I would get the bird out and clean it up for the oven. I wanted to season it a little by adding some herbs and butter under the skin but nothing too fancy. When I opened the bag and put the bird in the sink, I saw black spots all over the bird. Oh my! He said I might have to pluck a quill or two but the bird was ready to cook, otherwise. This looked like more than one or two plucks! I got my tweezers and went to plucking…. My dad was the only person I had invited over, so this was a fairly easy-going day for me. Cook, hang out, serve the meal, and maybe invite one or two others when it is ready… or… maybe not. Dad was coming over in the early afternoon after running to the store for me.
90 minutes later….
My dad got there with cranberries (my only non-local-organic ingredient) and I was still in my PJs, slumped over the sink, plucking away at this bird. I was practically in tears when he arrived. I had hoped to have the bird in the oven and be dressed and ready to cook side dishes while he played with my dog. He did not seem concerned. He said he wasn’t even that hungry right now so we had time, and he went out to play with Maya (my dog).
He came back in and I was still in the same situation, looking even more stressed and worried, plucking little black ends of the feathers from the skin of this bird. Daddy asked if maybe I wanted to just go to Piccadilly for lunch. I immediately said no! I had this bird killed and I had an obligation to the bird, to the farmer, and to my own budget because heritage birds raised organically are not cheap, so I kept working.
TIme passed and daddy came back in the kitchen and offered the suggestion of Piccadilly again. “I need to cook this bird!” I told him, to which he replied, “You can cook the bird anytime this weekend and take your time with it, and we can just go have a nice lunch now.” About that time, I got so queezy that I felt like I was about to puke on my organic bird. That would not be good. I asked daddy to get a bottle of wine from the living room and bring it in to open for me. I needed to BACK AWAY FROM THE BIRD for a minute.
When I looked over at him, he was trying to screw off the top to my wine. The foil was turning but he was not getting very far, since I don’t have any wine with screw-off tops. I stopped, washed my hands, and opened the bottle. Sipping a bit of wine in the other room, I realized that putting the bird in the fridge and going out for lunch sounded better and better! We looked online (well, I did…my dad is not there yet) for other options at restaurants. I threw out options like the Colonnades, to which daddy replied “yeah, if we just want to spend the day waiting in line instead of actually eating!” He was right. It would be a terrible wait there. We did that one year when mom was in the hospital.
He sat as I looked at places advertising a meal for the day and then he says, “hell, I don’t even care anything about turkey and dressing! Let’s just go get a beer and some Mexican food!” I laughed and told him that no mexican restaurant would be open on Thanksgiving! Who eats Mexican food for Thanksgiving?! I have to admit the more I thought about it, the better it sounded, so I called Nuevo Laredo just in case. They were of course closed. I called one other and they were not answering either. We looked at each other in this weird silence, thinking over the whole situation…until I said “well I know the mex places out on Buford Hwy will be open or at least some of them!” and off we went.
Neither of us were very hungry so it was agreed that we would ride and look for the place that felt like we wanted to spend our holiday there. Panchos was the first place we came to and they had cars in the parking lot so we thought they were open. As we pulled in, I realized the entire lot was full which made me think they were having a private party. This place is never that busy! Sure enough the sign on the door read “Closed for private party” so we drove on… After popping in and out of a few places that either did not serve beer, or were way to authentic for my dad to find something he would like, we were driving back to the Northeast Plaza area to look once more and there it was, a place that said restaurante and had beer lights in the window. Daddy thought it was a pool hall but when I went inside, they had booths and people eating all around. I told him to park the car and let’s go in - this was the place. There were two guys walking around playing guitar and singing to the tables - Mariachi! We had arrived!
We drank, we ate, we were treated well, considering no one spoke English and we spoke little Spanish. We enjoyed the live music with our Native American brothers and sisters and once again on Thanksgiving, they showed us how to enjoy the gift of corn. The corn tortilla enchiladas were a holiday feast fit for the Thorpe family. We were both very grateful for our year and to have shared a good laugh and a good meal….I hope you had a great holiday too!
PS…the bird got roasted on Friday, the day after and a few special friends enjoyed a wonderful meal along with lots of fresh organic veggies.
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