Yo, what's up? I've been bad about updating this again, despite having made a mountain of awesome goodies. I made Thanksgiving dinner for my mom and brother. The potatoes were horrid. How you can make a kick-ass turkey, stuffing, and the like, but bungle mashed potatoes is beyond me, but I had been enjoying my latest Belgium brew... Actually it was kegged back in February, but I tapped it the day before Thanksgiving. My boss at the brew shop describes it as "dangerously fun" and I'm pretty stoked to have made it myself.
But I regress, here's my Turkey:
14.9 lb. Turkey
3-5 Sprigs Fresh Rosemary
Splash of Wine
Salt and Pepper
1 Tablespoon of Butter (not melted)
Clean out the Turkey. Yes, it has two opening. Just like us. More importantly, Salt and Pepper the heck out of that bird. Splash wine in its big cavity along with some Rosemary. Splash some wine in your mouth. I used a nice clean Merlot. I splashed a lot of wine in my mouth that day. Lift up the skin above the breast and then shove half the butter and the remaining Rosemary on either side. Rub the bird down with some Olive Oil and then Salt and Pepper some more. Put it in a pan with some tin foil over it and bake for about three hours at 375. Remove the foil and bake for about 30-45 more minutes. This was a juicy and delicious Turkey. I'd do it like this again no hesitation. Be sure to boil the innards and save them for the Stuffing. My mom made the Gravy, so I won't get into that. Do you like the way my brother carves a Turkey?
Ok, so I'm sure you're all yelling at your computer screens "what's the real reason you're updating your blog at midnight when you have school early tomorrow morning?" Well, it's because we had a training today and I got totally turkeyblocked. You see, we had this sizzling young presenter for our staff development who came up to me after lunch (a lunch that I enjoyed with a coworker over a hookah and falafel and more, booyakasha!), touched my shoulder, and said "I really appreciated your comments during our Socratic seminar before lunch. You did a really good job trying to move the conversation forward."
"Thanks," I said not quite making the jump from she's my superior and kinda boss-like to is she flirting with me? so I said "I read the rubric and I was totally going for a 4!" I thought I was being a smartass because I was trying to show off for my coworkers who I was talking to before I was so steamily interrupted, but she wanted a high five. OMG I love it when the woman initiates contact!
"That's because he went to Yale," says my turkeyblocking coworker who was trying to embarrass me.
"What?" she says.
"Nothing," I reply. He repeats himself and I say "ignore him." Then he says it again and I say "he's trying to say that I went to Yale." She's impressed. I think. She wonders how I got into teaching. I talk about my love for my students and she wants me. Or not. Whatever, this is my blog. In your blog you can write your history however you'd like. Then my turkeyblocking coworker tells her I'm a professional brewer. "I'm not," I assure her, but tell her that I brew in my apartment.
"So you're a professional alcoholic?" she says. Is she kidding? I can't tell.
I joke around for another minute, but my coworker keeps yapping and I say "okay" in my peppy little cheerleader way, "I'm getting embarrassed, so I'm going to sit down."
"If you don't get her number" my turkeyblocking coworker tells me, "then I'm going to make fun of you all year and have much less respect for you as a man." Thanks, friend. She's only in Texas two nights a month anyway, which I suppose is perfect, but that's neither here nor there.
It's funny, though, the way I could practically see my confidence melt away as soon as I realized that I might be flirting. Got to work on this. We'll see what happens.
Stay tuned for my amazing pumpkin pie... it's so good that you'll eat around the penis-sized hole!
***Addendum: I wrote this two weeks ago, but didn't publish it for some reason. This is the last week of the semester, but I've got some awesome recipes coming up. Also, according to a coworker who knows, the hot presenter is married. I guess she wasn't coming on to me.