Pre Cooked and Proud!
I have to remember not to tell my friend about any of my holiday cooking or the lack of holiday cooking. I happened to mention in passing almost that I was not cooking for Thanksgiving I was ordering from the store a pre cooked turkey dinner. The look of horror on his face was a real Kodak moment. He told me that it was un-holiday like not to cook for Thanksgiving. I told him I know my family and I am saving myself a lot of drama and lot of work. He asked me how so. Apparently he hasn't been my friend long enough to know this clan too well.
I explained to him how it would work if I cooked. I said to him that if I made the dinner from scratch this would be the scene at my tiny apartment. My mom would first send my nephew to the store to pick out a turkey. The first mistake. My nephew barely knows how to pick out a shirt to match his pants so picking out a turkey he knows nothing about. But, he would gladly go, just to drive her car, and when he got there to the store, he would call and he would ask what kind of turkey do you want and then name all the twenty brands that were there in the store and then he would choose whatever brand that mother directed him to get and he would pick the fattest turkey he could find because he will think that he needs a big one to feed 5-7 people. So, when he brings this fatter then fat bird here, that will take two days to cook in my half working oven, the work begins.
Then someone would go and get the sides to go with this dinner and that someone will probably be either my nephew or sister. Neither of them know how to pick out a good apple let alone a good sweet potato or yam or russet potato. Nonetheless they will do their best and come back with 4 pounds of each and plop them on the counter. Then they will stay there until I peel them or my mom peels them. IF my mom peels them then that is as far as she will go and then she will bellow from the kitchen that someone, which means me, will have to finish them. So, I will go and peel and cut and boil and bake and bake and boil on the stove and then try to slip them in beside the fat turkey that will take up the whole oven almost. My mom will then decide that she needs something else from the store like ten things more. She will pick out a person to go to the store again. I will have to duck and hide because I don't want to be the person going in the mists of all the other Thanksgiving shoppers because this store run will usually be at the second to the last minute.
Other things will be brought and placed on the table or the counter for others to cook, meaning me, so I will cook and season and shake and bake and bake and shake them all the while trying to wash the dirty pots and dishes used from the last shake and bake and bake and shake and cook. Then too many people will come in the kitchen looking for things like plates, spoons, forks and want to taste things and sample things and look at things and just totally be in the way for no reason at all. By that time I will be grumpy. They don't like me grumpy and ask why am I grumpy it is Thanksgiving after all.
By the time food, plates, spoons, forks, knives and glasses get to the table I will be too tired and too grumpy to be thankful for much of anything.
So, in order to save my sanity and the family dinner I decided to order the pre cooked dinner I explained to him and then he looked at me making big eyes, the kind of eyes you might make if you were shocked or surprised, and then he asked if I was going to at least make the dressing. I told him what part of pre cooked didn't he understand?
I explained to him how it would work if I cooked. I said to him that if I made the dinner from scratch this would be the scene at my tiny apartment. My mom would first send my nephew to the store to pick out a turkey. The first mistake. My nephew barely knows how to pick out a shirt to match his pants so picking out a turkey he knows nothing about. But, he would gladly go, just to drive her car, and when he got there to the store, he would call and he would ask what kind of turkey do you want and then name all the twenty brands that were there in the store and then he would choose whatever brand that mother directed him to get and he would pick the fattest turkey he could find because he will think that he needs a big one to feed 5-7 people. So, when he brings this fatter then fat bird here, that will take two days to cook in my half working oven, the work begins.
Then someone would go and get the sides to go with this dinner and that someone will probably be either my nephew or sister. Neither of them know how to pick out a good apple let alone a good sweet potato or yam or russet potato. Nonetheless they will do their best and come back with 4 pounds of each and plop them on the counter. Then they will stay there until I peel them or my mom peels them. IF my mom peels them then that is as far as she will go and then she will bellow from the kitchen that someone, which means me, will have to finish them. So, I will go and peel and cut and boil and bake and bake and boil on the stove and then try to slip them in beside the fat turkey that will take up the whole oven almost. My mom will then decide that she needs something else from the store like ten things more. She will pick out a person to go to the store again. I will have to duck and hide because I don't want to be the person going in the mists of all the other Thanksgiving shoppers because this store run will usually be at the second to the last minute.
Other things will be brought and placed on the table or the counter for others to cook, meaning me, so I will cook and season and shake and bake and bake and shake them all the while trying to wash the dirty pots and dishes used from the last shake and bake and bake and shake and cook. Then too many people will come in the kitchen looking for things like plates, spoons, forks and want to taste things and sample things and look at things and just totally be in the way for no reason at all. By that time I will be grumpy. They don't like me grumpy and ask why am I grumpy it is Thanksgiving after all.
By the time food, plates, spoons, forks, knives and glasses get to the table I will be too tired and too grumpy to be thankful for much of anything.
So, in order to save my sanity and the family dinner I decided to order the pre cooked dinner I explained to him and then he looked at me making big eyes, the kind of eyes you might make if you were shocked or surprised, and then he asked if I was going to at least make the dressing. I told him what part of pre cooked didn't he understand?
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