Happy Thanksgiving to anyone in the US of A. We’re not particularly united these days as a people or as a Nation but that is way more than I am prepared to tackle on this blog.
Instead I want to discuss something more serious. Turkey. Why do we insist upon eating Turkey for Thanksgiving?
It it the most boring meat on the planet. Why do you think you have to have stuffing, gravy, and cranberry sauce to go with it? Turkey is the white bread of meat. No taste of it’s own. And really, I have NEVER had a turkey that wasn’t dry. Granted they don’t all grow in your mouth like my grandmother’s did but still…
What are we even celebrating? Oooh, food. Most of us don’t need a banquet of food to stave off starvation. We need a banquet of diet before we keel over under our extra poundage.
This year I am boycotting Thanksgiving. In fact, I am going back to where it all started to begin a thorough investigation into the insanity that is this so called holiday.
Has the penny dropped yet? I’m on vaca. In London. My list is less ambitious than the average Thanksgiving dinner.
London Symphony Orchestra, Mousetrap in West End, Harry Potter Studio Tour, proper high tea, Churchill’s war rooms, British Museum, that underground roman museum of ruins, the name escapes me right now (keeping the kiddo happy). Anything else we get done will be gravy. So to speak.
Cheers mates!
Liverpool? Penny Lane? Abby Road (Studios), the Cavern Club? Hope you’re ”aving foon.’
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Woohoo, London! On the other hand, my dad (the unofficial king of overcooking chicken, pork, and beef) made a delicious and totally not dry turkey by barbecuing it. It can be done.
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congrats. that is an accomplishment!
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