But I did make the best turkey of my turkey making career. It was my Uncle Louie’s recipe, (which my sister Joni, wrote about when she was writing for the Globe and if you want a, like PERFECT turkey, bookmark this for next time you make a bird). Joni was so worried about my skill (or her not having a good turkey to eat) she sent me a couple emails full of important instructions for not fucking up, including a video by Alton Brown on how to truss a turkey,(which, p.s. I had never done before, and I think might have made a difference, but seriously you had to be like a sailor, to do his knots and stuff). Anyway, she was right, because we remembered that last year my Christmas turkey didn’t cook properly (read RAW) and while we salvaged some of it to eat, we threw the rest out).
This was the first Thanksgiving without the Turkey Master, and fill-in dad, my Uncle Louie, and the first at my house, and not at my Aunt & Uncle’s in like 25 years. Connecticut came to us. And we rocked it. I did, however miss the double stop at Rein’s Deli, which is a tradition (ah, the rye bread).
And there were pies. We had seven pies for 10 people. Um, yeah. We’re sort of pie people.
Grateful. Damn grateful for the weather holding up, and the turkey working out, and the company of family. They shouldn’t really call this Black Friday, as much as Full Friday.
The Rye Bread from Rein’s Deli in Vernon, Connecticut is like crack cocaine, heroin and meth mixed up into a loaf of addictive heaven. I tell you, this stuff is impossible for me to resist if it is anywhere in my vicinity, which is why I’m glad I only encounter it a few times a year when I go visit relatives. At least it’s not readily available, taunting me 24/7. Truth: if it were, you could count on me to do pretty much anything for a piece. I would be in the Tab Incident Reports. I might even make something like People magazine. Yeah, that bad.
I don’t have celiac, but I have a gluten sensitivity. So basically, I mostly try not to eat gluten, but it won’t hurt me if I do, except I might get a stomach ache if I’ve had too much. I try and keep it out of my diet, but all bets are off, and stay outta my way if the Rye Bread from Rein’s Deli in Vernon, Connecticut is nearby. Honestly, lock up your young.
When it’s fresh, you can practically eat the whole loaf in a sitting. It’s firm, but chewy, and like the most luxurious summer day. After that, you need to toast it for maximum enjoyment, and slather it in butter for optimal results. This is a sensory experience of such gustatory joy, there are really no words that have yet been invented to properly express what happens when this bread meets your taste buds.
I am grateful for the maker, the baker, the people who cut these loaves in their fancy bread cutting machine so that I may place a piece in my mouth and create a parade. I like those people. A lot. Like, really a lot.