With Thanksgiving approaching quickly this week, I always have a memory trip this week of the year.
Our first Thanksgiving as husband and wife, we spent at my parents' home. It was the typical turkey dinner for my mom. She always roasted the turkey breast down because that way the juices would stay in the breast and provide a very succulent turkey. I have tried it this way, but the family has always looked as me strangely. Granted, it is not something to photograph, but gosh, it tastes good.
Our second Thanksgiving of married life, we were living near Fort Knox, in Louisville, Kentucky. Small apartment, but we loved it. We invited a couple also stationed there who were from Iowa. He and the Trout were drafted on the same day.
Actually, the turkey was beautiful, tasted great and so did all the fixins! But, almost immediately after the meal, John, our guest, excused himself to the bathroom. He was sick, very sick, throwing up with the flu. At least we decided it was the flu since no one else got sick from my meal. I had my doubts though and a little insecurity set in.
No, I will not tell you about every turkey I have ever roasted, but the following year was a memorable one. We were living in a tiny apartment in Heidelberg, Germany. The kitchen was on the upstairs landing. It had a sink, which we also used as a bathroom sink, a tiny refrigerator and a very tiny two burner gas stove with an even tinier oven. I measured and measured that oven and told the Trout that no turkey would ever be able to see the inside of that oven. He simply would not fit. I suppose I could have gotten a very small Cornish hen in there, but no turkey. Disappointment!! Even though we were living in Germany, we were Americans, and turkey was a tradition. It had to be.
We went to the base exchange for our groceries and I searched and searched until I found a turkey that would fit. Oh yes, we had turkey that day with the fixins, but the turkey was a turkey roll. You know the kind, turkey meat rolled together in a cylinder and then frozen. Well, it tasted great and even the landlady and her brother were impressed. Back in 1968, turkey was not a typical food in Germany. Only many years later did Europe start using turkey and putting in on restaurant menus.
These are precious memories for me. I have trouble believing how long it has been and how quickly the time has passed. This Thanksgiving, well, it is just the Trout and me this year. But, we will have a real turkey, roasted breast up and with all the fixins! I can hardly wait.
Oh yes, one more thing....Speaking of turkey breasts, tomorrow is my annual mammogram and NO ONE will take that privilege away from me, no matter what my age!!!
La Seine, trois fois
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