Carving Poultry, Time, and other Tricky substances

I’m a wimp when it comes to birds.  It’s not that I’m afraid of them when they’re live (though I did once perform a wary dance around a Michigan farm with a “guard turkey”– but that’s another story).  It’s when they’re roasted that I begin to have problems, and I ought to acknowledge that at that point, they’ve had their problems, too.  But for all my culinary experimentation, I’ve never mastered the art of carving the turkey, the chicken, the capon, or the quail.

I hate to be explicit (skip over this part if you’re an avowed vegan), but I’ll tell you exactly where the whole thing breaks down for me: it’s when you have to pop the legs out of their sockets.  Ouch.  Also, I get a little crazy over getting the angle just right while slicing the breast meat– I just really want it to come out even and parallel when I get down to the bones.  Then there are the wings.  And don’t even talk to me about the other miscellaneous parts, which we have been known to cook inside the bird right in their little bags (accidentally, of course).

But I do have a solution for all of this.  Clay carves the turkey.

So, now that we’ve talked turkey, let’s talk about time.  Like any other mom of multiple kids, my time is minced.  For a long time there hasn’t even been the possibility of slicing off generous portions to distribute as I like.  To continue the analogy much too far, my days and evenings have looked more like canned, shredded chicken than like a whole meal to be custom carved.  But I smell a roasted masterpiece in my future.  When we do finally get to London, and the children are in school and the furniture is settled, I may have enough time that I have to make choices about how I carve it up.  I wonder how I will do when confronted with such options. 

One thing is certain: this is one carving job I’ll do for myself!

Returning to our old Cuppa Chaos tradition, I’ll report that I had an Americano w/milk at Starbucks this morning, along with a healthy laugh over the boisterous coffeehouse crowd (maybe another blog on that soon!).  Drinking Earl Gray at home now as I finish my note to you.  Hope you’re enjoying some soul-drink, too!

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