Whattheturf*#ken?

 

Update: Our New Year’s Eve Turducken dinner

      

     On New Year’s Eve Mrs. Chatterbox and I spent the afternoon at the theater watching War Horse. On our return home we slipped our turducken (a turkey breast stuffed with a duck breast stuffed with a chicken breast stuffed with rice dressing) into a preheated oven for an hour and a half. Mrs. Chatterbox made mashed potatoes and an assortment of veggies to accompany the main course. I mixed up a batch of martinis and we enjoyed them while waiting for our turducken to roast. On a recent Chubby Chatterbox post  many of you offered comments on turduckens, and in appreciation for your concern I won’t prolong the suspense: We would have had a better meal had we eaten War Horse.

     Turducken is one of the worst things I’ve put in my mouth, and I could easily raise a few eyebrows were I to start listing the questionable things I’ve eaten over the years. I should have been suspicious when a burnt jockstrap smell permeated our kitchen. (As I type this in my downstairs studio I can hear Mrs. Chatterbox scraping our dishes. She’s yelling, “I can’t get the stink of that horrible thing off my hands!”

     As for its appearance, it wasn’t at all appealing to look at. It resembled a bald head wearing a hair net. And the rice stuffing oozing from it resembled lice. (There was a bunch more description here but you can thank Mrs. Chatterbox, my editor, for sparing you further details.)

     Pause: I’ll be back: She needs me.

     I’m back. Mrs. Chatterbox was cutting up the rest of the turducken and feeding it to the garbage disposal, but apparently the disposal didn’t want it either and had stopped working. I had to pry chunks from the blades with my fingers.

     I feel sorry for my wife, who’d looked forward to preparing a delicious meal for me, a meal that I’d requested and she’d prepared with her usual love and skill. Unfortunately, boiled gym socks would have tasted better.

     When we found the turducken at a fancy grocery store I had the good sense to ask the butcher how many people it fed. He told us it was a small turducken but it would easily feed twelve. Since it was only the two of us dining on it I had the butcher cut it in half, shrink wrap the two sections and wrap both for the freezer. I still have half of that fowl meat bomb in my freezer. What the hell am I going to do with—

      

Please disregard the previous portion of this blog.

     Welcome one and all to the Chubby Chatterbox Turducken 2012 Contest. Just send me a comment as to why you deserve a free turducken dinner and your name will be entered into a drawing for half of a delicious, mouthwatering treat. Don’t wait, hundreds of you will undoubtedly be curious about this culinary delight. I’m standing by waiting for your comments. Be creative. Maybe there’s someone you hate and you’d like to send them a message. I’ll cough up postage for anywhere in the contin…make that the world. Please? Is anyone out there?

     I may be at the hospital tomorrow having my stomach pumped so I’ll say it now while I can.

Happy New Year.