I was a little nervous. Neither Foster nor myself have ever cooked a turkey before. This Thanksgiving we were going to cook two! I was baking the traditional turkey in the oven, and he was grilling one on the charcoal grill. The way I figured, if one didn't turn out, there was always a back-up.
The challenges started the night before. I was peeling sweet potatoes while talking on the phone. I knew it was a bad idea, but I figured I could try to multitask. I was wrong! With one slip, I sliced a chunk of skin off the top of my finger. I never felt it, because the peeler was brand new, and sharp, but I noticed blood. A half a roll of paper towels and a roll of electrical tape later, I was back in business, minus the use of my left index finger.
Thanksgiving morning my mom and dad came over early to assist Foster and I in our Thanksgiving feast. We prepped and put the baked turkey in the oven, and then we were off to visit some very important people:
The four of us went to visit Rosie, grandma and Grandpa. It was really nice, despite the rain to be able to celebrate the holiday with Rosalynn. If you cannot see the stone, because of the rain, here are pictures from when Foster and I visited last Monday:
Interesting story from Monday:
When Foster and I arrived at the cemetery, we noticed the plywood was still covering the opening where the headstone was supposed to be. I started to get really sad, and almost angry, because it had been four months since we ordered it. We marched our little butts down to the office. When we asked them why the stone was not placed, they couldn't figure out what we were talking about. They explained that the funeral home had dropped the stone off a few days prior, and it should have been in place. They started to worry that it had been paced at the wrong grave. Foster and I left our number with instructions for them to call us as soon as they found the stone and placed it. IN the mean time, we decided to check one more time. We went back up to the hill Rosie is buried on and started to look around. Sure enough, her stone was probably 30 yards away on another person's spot, but not put in the ground yet. Performing a very fatherly act, Foster picked up the 100 lbs stone, and brought it to its rightful place, his daughter's grave.
On Thanksgiving, mom, dad, Foster and I took a bottle of Bailey's to toast Grandma with since it was her favorite drink on the holidays. As you can see in the picture, we propped a glass on her headstone for her, but as my mom turned to walk away and grab her own glass, this is what happened:
That's right, the way the glass tipped is right where Granny and Rosie lie. SO one of two things, Granny did not want to share her glass, so she "drank it herself", or Rosie was trying to have a taste of her first alcoholic beverage at WAY too young of an age!! Either way, it brought a laugh to all of us.
When we returned to the house, Foster started up the grill and started to prepare HIS turkey. We checked my turkey, and according to Foster's grandmother's stuffing recipe, I was supposed to add the stuffing to the turkey 1 hour before taking it out of the stove. I figured I had plenty of time, because the turkey was supposed to take about 4 hours.
When we thought I had about an hour to an hour and a half prior to the turkey being done, we took it out of the oven. We stuck the thermometer in, and not only was the turkey done, but the temp was reading twenty degrees too hot!! I was devastated! Now I couldn't put the famous "Foster dressing" into the bird, AND I was going to have a dry, overcooked turkey. I just started to pray that Foster's turkey came out okay, and that the dressing would cook well in a glass pan.
As people started showing up and it looked like all 17 people were present, my dad started carving into my overcooked turkey to find that it was PERFECT. It cooked 2 hours shorter than it was supposed to, with no dressing in it, and twenty degrees too hot, but was perfect! Foster's smoked turkey came out amazing too! Thank God! I was afraid I was going to have to call the Chinese place down the street. However, now we have enough left over turkey to feed a small country for a year. I guess that means a lot of turkey sandwiches are in my future.
Everyone seemed to love all of the food, and dinner seemed to be a real success. Foster and I worked really well together leading up to the day, and with the help of my mom and dad, we were able to pull off the perfect day, despite all of the fiascoes.
