Turducken: Hour 24.5

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

Turducken Presentation; Why Deborah and I Kick As and Also Van

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?

Okay.

( The Serving of the Turgoosen )