I’ve got a turkey in the oven, so all is right with the world. Never mind that it’s not Thanksgiving or Christmas (other people in my family get to cook or get stuck with cooking, depending on your perspective, the turkey then): It’s Thursday, it’s cold, my head hurts a little, and that’s good enough reason for whipping out the turkey plastic cooking bag and turning on the oven. It also helps that there just happened to be a turkey, newly defrosted and all white meat (a kind of mutant turkey) in my refrigerator.
Although the turkey won’t be ready for 2.5-3 hours depending on our collective karma, just knowing it’s turning from clammy raw skin and flesh to tasty meat is some cause for celebration. Turkey-cooking at random just makes a person feel good because it’s not something most of us hardly ever do (except for prescribed holidays), it makes the house smell divine, and it propels a person to make high quality mashed potatoes in a hurry. There’s also something about cooking something so much bigger than our own heads that has something magical going for it.
Although I feel like taking an anticipatory nap already, I’ll save that for 3-3.5 hours from now after I’ve gotten to eat some of this turkey. In the meantime, let’s hear it for the guerilla baking and cooking of whatever we’re used to eating at certain times, and while we’re at it, I might just gather my energy to make a pumpkin pie too.