the gizzardly joys of thanksgiving

i cooked a bird.
me, the quasi-veg-head....cooked a bird that i won't even eat.
but i cook a pretty mean bird.

this post is a little late because canadiana thanksgiving was at the beginning of october.
but i was uploading some photos from my camera to the computron and i had forgotten about these photos:













so i decided to cook a bird and trimmings for 13 family members (is that a sign of age? who knows...i just love cooking for people--always have)
to make my conscience feel better, i ordered a free run, grain fed (raised just for the occassion) bird from a local mennonite farm.
this baby, we called her chantelle, was a 20 lb beast. and she still had some pin feathers stuck to her. you see, when the birds aren't massed produced by butterball™, they actually have feathers. and hefty breasts.
the night before the big day, i decided to give chantelle a salty bath.
i was reading all about how to make my bird delicious and read about brining the bird, especially an all natural, non-frozen, non-butterball bird.
so with a mixture of salt water and herbs, i double bagged chantelle and soaked her for 12 hours. unfortunately her wing tip broke a hole in both bags and the kitchen floor was cleaned with a salt water, sage and black peppercorn cleanser
thanksgiving morning i woke up like it was christmas morning...ran to the fridge to get chantelle and prep her for her spa day.
rinsed off the brine, and made my own herb butter.
ever so gently i pulled the skin from her breast and slipped my hand between the two to rub the butter in. then i put some sage leaves under the skin.
it was beautiful.
it was masochistic.
and a bizarre practice for someone who doesn't eat turkey.
but i actually didn't mind. maybe it was the biologist in me?
and it left my hands feeling supple.