HOT FAT YOUNG LADY

A few years ago one of my readers suspected me of a perverse obsession after I embroidered a recipe for brined roast turkey with a description of young ladies enjoying pastries and slurping hot beverages. Actually, several readers accused me of that.
Silly me, I thought I was performing a public service!
I believe that everyone needs to know how to cook.
Even literate perverts and young ladies.

[It didn't help that part of the introductory theme of that particular culinary essay posited petite bespectacled teenagers possibly rubbing butter all over the plump bald bird before bunging it into the oven.  An 'all-family happy' Thanksgiving idea, as it were.]

My apartment mate, who still is a young lady, though in her forties, was cooking with chicken fat the other day. She mentioned that she could not understand why more people didn't use it. I opined that it was because most people nowadays were trying to eat all healthy and sh8t.
However, chicken fat was marvelous good stuff.
Her reply was short and succinct.


"OH GOD YES. I WANT TO DIE HAPPY."


Personally, I am fond of many fats. Not just chicken fat, but also duck fat and pork fat, as well as lamb fat still hot and with peppery crusties at the bottom.

Fat, you will probably grasp, is something that must be shared. My apartment mate does not share hot fat with me. There is no romance between us, though we do graciously encourage each other to partake of the foods we put in the refrigerator. Partly that is because commercial measurements are predicated on family units of four to more than fifteen people ("family size"), rather than the requirements of single persons.
Partly because both of us are generous to a fault.

Well, she is. I'm rather a penny-pinching old sort.

I need serious inspiration to soften my hard ass.

Pastries and hot beverages ALWAYS work.

[I'm have some right now, as a matter of fact.]


Brined turkey, not so much. Whatever you do, it's still turkey. Every time you serve turkey, a baby angel dies. And kittens. Lots of fluffy kittens.

Turkey fat is the complete opposite of inspirational.

Turkey is the world's most boring sandwich meat.

Why Werner Herzog is obsessed with chickens I do not know. Turkey is far more stupid and evil than chicken. Maybe they didn't have any turkeys where he comes from. At least not during his formative years.
In which case, chicken is the next best thing.
Still, turkeys. Man.
Nasty.


If a nice young lady wished to discuss the dirty bird with me over pastries and a hot beverage, I would be somewhat at a loss.
I do not have much to say about turkeys.


Except this:


When brining a bird, the proportion of salt to liquid is 1:35.
That means for each tablespoon salt you will need 35 tablespoons (slightly less than two and a quarter cups) water. Use less sugar than salt.
For a big turkey you will probably need two or three gallons of liquid in all.
One gallon is sixteen cups. For each gallon, seven tablespoons salt. Plus a pinch extra.
You can replace some of the water with rice-wine, sherry, or fragrant vinegar.
Throw in some star-anise and ginger, plus other spices.
Do not add garlic - while it tastes good, the result will be reminiscent of Italian Salami. Which is fine, but not particularly festive.

First 20 - 30 minutes of roasting are at a higher temperature (425°) to colour the skin and get the heat into the bird. The remainder of the roasting, at 350 degrees, will take twelve minutes per pound of dead bird. So for a twenty pound turkey, about four hours.

Rest the bird for half an hour after taking it out of the oven.
Do not stuff it - if you need stuffing, make it on top of the stove, and use some of the pan juices for flavour.

If you eat with bowl and chopsticks, don't bother carving the bird, simply whack it into chunks with a cleaver, or cut it up with kitchen shears. Drizzle some of the pan juices over.

Roast bird is very good with hot-sauce: Sambal Oelek or Chili Garlic.


I am not a pervert.




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