Turkey Sucks Unless It’s On a Sandwich and Even Then, It’s Only So-So
With all due respect to the 46 million turkeys murdered every year in celebration of a genocide, this is not about animal rights. Or genocide, for that matter. It’s about the fact that turkey tastes like trash and nobody is willing to do anything about it. Ever picked up a bucket of Kentucky Fried Turkey for dinner? Has anyone ever muttered, “Mmm… tastes like turkey” after chowing down? What about “turkey of the sea”? Sorry, Jessica Simpson, it’s not a thing. I know it and restaurants know it. That’s why you virtually never see it on menus, aside from those at Medieval Times.
Why? Because turkey is bland. It’s dry, mild in flavor and only vaguely palatable when smeared with mayonnaise and put on a sandwich. And if you’re going to put it on a sandwich, you better have some hot sauce, bacon or pesto handy to spice things up a bit—because sad deli turkey cannot carry a sandwich on its own. It’s simply not up to the task.
Roasting a turkey is a special kind of nightmare. It’s almost impossible to prepare a bird that large without overcooking it. Worse, the enormous roasting pan it requires will be used once a year max, all while taking up the most space in your kitchen. Let me guess, you think deep-fried turkey is the way to go. Well, I don’t want to hear that lecture— and don’t you dare disgrace an elegant French duck with something as frightful as a “turducken.” That’s just blasphemy. To me, side dishes should be the stars of the show. Mac n’ cheese, stuffing and mashed potatoes. These are the starchy foods that represent the old U.S. of A.
Oh, and the cherry (cranberry?) on top: Turkey makes you feel terrible, which is why it pairs so nicely with family arguments. Eat mounds of this low-fat poultry, and then explain to your cousin’s wife Sharon how the election was actually NOT stolen. The only thing left to do is curl up in a ball and doze off while the most idiotic sport ever plays on the tv in the background. I’d love to know the name of the marketing genius at Butterball who orchestrated this cruel charade.
And you know what rankles me more than anything else? I think most people agree with me. Are there amnesia-inducing properties in tryptophan? It sure seems like it—because every November, we once again convince ourselves to buy a turkey. I’m putting my foot down and saying “no more” once and for all.
So this Thanksgiving, act presidential. Spare a turkey and choose fried chicken—or heavens forbid, go ahead and roast a goddamn cauliflower if you have to. Anything but turkey.
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