Many of you who know us well are aware that Amy and I have had very low-key Thanksgiving celebrations over the past decade or so. The stress of being pulled in many directions and not only wanting to please our families but genuinely wanting to be with all of them eventually got the better of us. For a number of years we disappeared to Spa Eastman, outside of Montreal. After all, the fourth Sunday in November holds no special significance to Canadians. There we were able to relax in the quiet solitude of wide open space, wander miles of hiking trails and finish every day with a hearty, healthy yet gourmet meal. However, the prices rose, the specials and incentives got smaller and the US dollar weakened significantly against the Canadian dollar so that we eventually give that up except under very special circumstances, turning instead to visiting nearby, out-of-season, tourist destinations such as the Cape. This year, we fled the country even earlier and further, landing here in Viterbo.
In Italy, as in Canada, the fourth Sunday in November has no special significance, UNLESS you are an expatriot American! The cultural exchange aspect of our school program goes in both directions to some extent. While the students are here to experience life in Italy, the Italian host families are always fascinated by their American charges as well. In addition, Amy and I are NOT the norm when it comes to the celebration of Thanksgiving. Our students have been here just long enough to really start to miss home and the thought of all of their families getting together without them would really bring them down were there no corresponding celebration here. Thus, the school sponsors a Thanksgiving dinner for all of the students, their host families and the faculty. It is a potluck; the Italian host families bring the food. Except, every year when they do it there isn't any food resembling what students long for = disappointment. This year, to attempt to counter that, the school purchased five turkeys and asked the American faculty to prepare them. Hence, I went from having nothing to do with Thanksgiving to cooking a turkey with all the fixins. Ironic?!
To start, I had to pick up the turkey on Wednesday. Italians eat a surprising amount of tacchino (turkey), but they aren't available whole in any of the meat markets or stores. To get one whole you need to arrange it ahead of time. Our Resident Director saw to it that the turkeys had all been arranged for. Confident in my ability to negotiate the simple task of picking it up, off I went to Gigi e Mena, the site of our cheese tasting earlier this year. Fifteen minutes later I left, without a turkey. It seems the owner thought I wanted to buy a turkey for myself and there wasn't sufficient time to order one by the next day. Try as hard as I might, I couldn't figure out how to explain that I wanted one of the ones which had already been ordered by the school. Fortunately, the school is 75 meters down the road and I returned with reinforcements a few minutes later and ultimately left with my bird carcass.
The turkey I got here is somewhat different from the ones I have dealt with at home. It was gutted and the head was gone, all good. It was plucked, at least to some extent. I spent the better part of an hour removing left over feathers. After all, the best part of eating a turkey is the crunchy, butter covered, browned skin. Feathers wouldn't work for that. Then there are the drumsticks. They do cut off the feet - mostly. Next, the oven here is significantly smaller than any I have encountered in the US. After trussing up the bird as best I could, it DID fit. The only problem was that it touched both sides, the back and the top of the oven interior. And this was only a 15 pound bird. Much cooking ensued. Stuffing, gravy and cooked turkey were ultimately delivered to a parochial school assembly hall a couple of miles south of the city.
That was where mass chaos erupted. Imagine 200 of your closest friends, a 60 by 7 foot long buffet table, no chairs, no mashed potatoes and no carving knives. As Warren Zevon said in Lawyers, Guns and Money, "I don't wanna talk about it." I will say that I eventually steamrolled over enough people that I got some of the food I cooked and that it was well done. I cook a mean turkey!
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