lwood: (Default)
The title's a Norse joke. See, we have two tribes of gods, the Aesir and the Vanir -- the singular of Aesir is As, and the singular of Vanir is Van.

Get it?


The Serving of the Turgoosen )
lwood: (Default)
It's done -- the turducken was a roaring success, an absolute thing of beauty, a glorious example of poultry in motion. The motion, I admit, was mostly from my knife to their plates, and thence into their tummies, but the silence while they ate was the highest compliment I could have been paid; it meant they were all too busy eating to talk, because it was just that damn good.

We receiver half the money back in donations. First, I asked on the Hrafnar mailing list. However, I also asked during the feast, after everyone had a big old slice of triple meat triple stuffing goodness on their plates and while they were happily stuffing their faces.

Yup, I'm cruel. ;)

However, while two hundred dollars buys a fuckton of bird and stuffings, it's also a lot of money, and dammit I decided I could have no shame about this.

But... it was worth it. Just don't ask me to do that much of it again. Holy crap.

The last thing to do with the boned carcasses was make stock. I've got about six gallons of chicken-goose-turkey stock on my stove, which I'm reducing to five for storage. I'll be able to send Deborah back the two gallons she contributed to the cause... with interest! While I'm waiting for things to boil down a bit, I'm half-watching Mister Roger's Neighborhood as research material for a forthcoming essay.

Won't be around much tomorrow through Sunday -- Diana and I are going on a Westrian Road Trip tomorrow and probably Friday, doing locational research for The Golden Hills of Westria.

But damn, that turgoosen was fine eating.

-- Lorrie
lwood: (Default)
Temperature: 170 in the breast, 160 in the thigh.

It's out.

Hail the birds, hail the gods and goddesses, and hail Sigdrifa the WonderKitten who thinks my hands taste wonderful.

Now it rests. 8-)

Hy00ge! (447kB) picture behind the cut )


-- Lorrie
lwood: (stitch)
Just did the second juice extraction -- over two quarts of meaty juices, I think, and the roaster nearly overflowed. I'm going to have to go to every two hours. I didn't quite get the rack all the way back in after the last time, which caused the oven to drop to a dangerously low 150° (target oven temperature, monitored with a thermometer, is 190°) -- however, this was discovered and dealt with between extractions, so I don't think it'll hurt our time too much.

At least, I hope not. I gave myself some slop time in the schedule, which was nearly all used by getting the monster in the oven an hour late. I'm a little nervous at that, but we shall see what transpires.

Smells wonderful.

What's even better right now is that [livejournal.com profile] starfire6910/Deborah is doing my Mountain o' Dishes. Given that I've been working three days on this, and she only turned up last night, I'm gonna let her. Ha!

-- Lorrie
lwood: (stitch)
Halfway through the scheduled roasting time for the Turgoosen o'DOOOOOOOM. She went in at 2:07AM, Pacific Standard Time, after which [livejournal.com profile] starfire6910/Deborah and I celebrated by going to Denny's for a late night dinner, then coming home and collapsing.

It didn't need any help at 4:00 AM, when we got back from Denny's. [livejournal.com profile] countgeiger got up at 7AM, and he and Deborah determined that it actually needed basting, which surprises me given that we have a goose in the process, nature's own fat factory, but there you are.

The Turgoosen reverted to its expected behaviour by 10:00 AM, when I extracted about a pint of drippings from its roaster home. My apartment has been a place of wonderful smells for the past two days as I've constructed the stuffings, and is becoming so again as the turgoosen roasts soooo veeeery sloooooowly.

I followed that up by a heartfelt and shameless plea to the Hrafnar and Fensalir lists for donations to help defray the cost of this hummer, because between one thing and another, the shopping list ran about two hundred dollars (ouch).

In the eighth hour of turgoosen, my kindred gave to meeeeeee...

-- Lorrie
lwood: (stitch)
[livejournal.com profile] starfire6910 and I just bought everything we need for the turducken.

However, we could not find an eight pound duck.

You'll all just have to settle for an eight-pound goose, which means the need for a new combinative word (hmmm, sounds German).

Hail the turgoosen!

[EDIT: Added:]
In completely unrelated news, a /. reader caused me to giggle madly by referring to the Honor Harrington series of space opera novels as Mistress and Commander: The Far Side of the Galaxy.

-- Lorrie
lwood: (stitch)
Diana and I are strongly considering turducken for Hrafnar Yule.

Thoughts? Comments? Incoherent screams and suggestions for my eventual afterlife?

-- Lorrie


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February 2011

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