Okay.  Before you read this, go to yesterday’s post and vote in my poll.  America needs your vote.   Do it now.

Done?  You may now proceed to today’s post.  Thank you.

Day one of extended stay-cation.  Menu is planned, turkey is ordered, trip to store is in order.

Wait.  Turkey is ORDERED?  [Insert SCREECHING HALT here.]

Yes.  That’s what I said.  Ordered.

I finally broke down and did what I’ve wanted to do for a long time.  I ordered a Cajun deep-fried turkey for this year.

I have roasted the bird every year since I got married.  I have inhaled the heady aroma all morning, basted it hourly, inserted the thermometer (because I don’t trust the pop-out timer) and consulted it carefully.

But not this year.

Because have you EVER tasted fried turkey?

Before you go screaming and yelling about fat grams and calories, stop and listen to me.  There’s a two-gram difference in the fat content between the same portion of fried turkey and roast turkey.  Cooked correctly – at a very high temperature – the fat is not allowed to permeate the meat to that great of an extent.  (Besides, really, when you are slathering everything else with gravy and whipped cream, what’s a couple of extra fat grams?)

More importantly, cooked correctly, you’ve really never tasted anything like it.  The meat is juicy, because the high temperature seals the juices in.  Cajun seasoning is injected throughout the meat, and the result is pure heaven.  The skin is crispy, not rubbery, and the taste is, well, divine.  And no worries about undercooked meat here.  (If you’re really interested, read here for details.)

So I did it.  And now there will be plenty of room in the oven for the other fixin’s. And I won’t be stressing about whether the turkey is thawed in time.  And that’s what it’s all about.  Me being able to relax.  A bit, anyway.

So that’s that.  And I’m relieved.

Now if I can just stop thinking about the fact that there is a turtle cheesecake in my freezer.

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