LUV – Of course you’d rather be slicing into a nice big arse of glazed ham. Of course you would. But Christmas isn’t about you – it’s about Jesus, and turkey was his favourite. You’ll need to acquire an uncensored draft of the good book to read the relevant passage, though; it was thought too sessual to make the published version:
And lo, Christ didst taketh the turkey’s wattle, and he toreth the pendulous caruncle in twain; and then he didst suspend the bulbous excrescence before his mouth; and then he didst tongue the scarlet tendrils toward his salivations; when finally he didst pour gravy all around and about his teeth and lips; and it was good. Real good.
You might not be as keen on turkey as that guy. That’s fine – you just need to recalibrate your perspective in order to get your Christmas dinner to work together as a team, which allows the bird to put in 110%. To do this, I recommend thinking of your plate as an episode of Entourage.
You’ve got Adrian Grenier (turkey) kind of just sitting there, projecting zero personality or charisma; but then he’s joined onscreen by Jeremy Piven (cranberry sauce) and Kevin Dillon (stuffing), and suddenly you’re smiling. Then there are some gratuitous boobs (er, potatoes) and everyone gets laid (um, pigs in blankets), before a household name, in a shoehorned cameo, pokes fun at him/herself (I can’t stop! I dunno, brussels sprouts? Move on, for the love of God).
– Stuart Waterman
HAT – WHY DOES TURKEY EVEN EXIST, please? It’s not brown and pink and delicious, like roast beef. It’s not a slightly different brown and a slightly different pink, and delicious, like roast pork. It doesn’t boast any interesting textural accoutrements like crackling, and it’s GREY.
At the most excessive, indulgent time of the year we’ll go to the lengths of wrapping pigs in bits of other pig, but the main show of our main meal is a series of formless slabs of GREY meat.
It’s Christmas, you idiots! It’s the most wonderful time of the year! Our roasts should be SPECTACULAR. We should roast swan or hog or hippogriffs, on golden tinfoil, in the kitchens of Asgard.
But no. We settle for supermarket turkey, which is basically a dry – yet gamey – version of chicken. It’s the stuff they use to make fake bacon, for people who are too boring to eat bacon, but too cowardly to be vegetarians. I SPIT on your turkey. This Christmas, I will be filling my plate with pigs-in-blankets, roast potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce, bread sauce, and THAT’S IT.
Because I know how to live. Not for long, and with blocked arteries.
– Robyn Wilder