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I Forge Iron

Happy Thanksgiving 2021 everyone.


Daswulf

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I couldn't imagine it being bigger but the garbage can could have held a much plumper bird. 

I will be looking for a bigger stainless "actual" pot incase this happens again. The garbage can Was risky. 

I was looking up solutions as I was in the problem and all they suggest is a couple smaller birds (for feeding more people), not really a solution to the big bird I had. 

Like some non meat chickens I've done in the past, I thought he was mostly fluff (feathers). He was full on bird. Haha

Lesson learned for next year. Now to see if I start getting turkey eggs from what I'm fairly certain are females. 

Or we might have a Christmas turkey too. 

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I yam what I yam and that's all what I yam, I'm Popeye the sailor man.

All our local markets mark them sweet potato or yam depending on the color and they're all different. The next time I buy them I'll pick one of each color and see if one cooks up soft and mushy like the article says a yam cooks.

After reading it I'd be willing to grow yams but I'm way outside their zone. Farmers here grow lots of sweet potatoes and a wide variety of spuds. 

Frosty The Lucky.

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Frosty I am from the south and we have called them yams in our family for at least 6 generations; the can my wife used was labeled both sweet potatoes and yams!  "Sugary Sam, Sweet Potatoes, Yams in Syrup.   If, perchance, you dream of someone resembling "Granny" from the Beverly Hillbillies belaboring you about the head and shoulders with a large wooden spoon you can suspect that one of my forbearers' haints has caught up with you!

Biggest issue with "group" Thanksgivings is that you don't end up with all the leftovers to feed you for a week or two!    

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We're from the Pac N.W. and almost never had either by any name. Neither of my Grandmothers could have been mistaken for Granny Clampet. Neither were feisty, My maternal Grandmother, Mom or Suzie lived with us and would never raise voice to a male child, she'd have a talk with Shannon but never a boy. She grew up with strict male female rolls.

My Paternal Grandmother "allowed" us to call her Grammy. She was a Victorian Lady but raising a large family and the depression forced her to work. She was the head of "staff," house keeping for logging camps and mills, depending where they set up. Grammy didn't need to be feisty, she "knew" people who would take "care" of problems for her. Her abusive second husband for example just "left" one day. Oh NO, I'm SURE a few loggers didn't stop by for a chat and help him pack. 

I didn't get to know Grammy well enough, we lived a long way from Seattle. She epitomized grace  under pressure but running a staff of 40 + people from 1915 - 1950+/-  tempered her mettle> Her house on Lake Washington was 3 stories of marble faced stone masonry and a Victorian showcase. She had a great sense of humor and a much quicker wit than I do. She knew jokes that would make sailors blush and Dad hide his head. I can't say how much I wish I'd gotten to know her better. She didn't prosper in a male dominated world, she dominated and with grace and empathy. I hear stories from other branches of the Frost family and. . . <sigh>

Frosty The Lucky.

 

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I come from a long line of Farm Women, many of them from the hills of AR where life was hard.  I think Granny could take on a bear with a wooden spoon and have it regretting it even thought her hives might be tasty.  On the other side I had a great grandmother who had married a ACW veteran, he had been a drummer boy.  I don't remember her but the stories told say that she dipped snuff and could cuss like a stevedore!  In general their husbands died in their 50's and they lived into their 90's.  Life was hard. (13 kids in a 2 room dogtrot cabin!)

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We had a bacon-wrapped turkey, mac and cheese, collard greens, pan stuffing (which some people call "dressing"), gravy, and homemade cranberry relish, with apple pie and sweet potato pie for dessert. I was especially happy with the apple pie.

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My late mother in law had a story from when she was newly married and another new wife in the neighborhood decided to do a full Thanksgiving dinner without any guidance from anyone more experienced.  Unfortunately, she somehow bought an undrawn (all the "insides" still in place) but plucked turkey.  It looked beautiful when roasted but when it was carved the smell of all the cooked entrails sent everyone out the door.

Maybe they all ended up at the local Chinese restaurant like the scene in the movie "Christmas Story."

"By hammer and hand all arts do stand."

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I have a relation that his Southern Belle wife was never taught to cook and when she had the family Thanksgiving dinner; she confided to the other women helping in the kitchen, (back in the 1960's), that her turkey was funny as it didn't have the giblets.    They were in a plastic bag stuffed deep in the Turkey.  Baked plastic infused Turkey was not the highlight of the meal!

Most of the others in the kitchen could have killed and cleaned the Turkey and had it ready on time, meanwhile disking the south 40 and fixing the well pump....

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Haha George, that smell can be a bit rough Uncooked let alone cooking all the bad parts of it together. 

I was surprised how packed the gizzard was with grit. Way more packed than chickens I've butchered. I don't eat those parts. Some do and like them. In harder times its good to know what all parts are edible. I'm not quite in those hard of times. 

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