It seems that as soon as Nov. 1 rolls around, everyone shifts into a frenzy over Christmas. And while I love the warm feelings that the holiday elicits, I’m a true advocate for Thanksgiving. Unlike Christmas, there isn’t much to do in terms of decorations or traditions, but I believe we must honor the one day out of the entire year that is dedicated to enjoying food and each other. Even though I’ve always seen other friend groups host Friendsgiving, I never felt particularly inclined to host one of my own. There was a change this year, as I moved into a bigger space, I felt older, and the timing just felt right.Â
While the event was officially hosted by our entire apartment, something came over me as I sent multiple emails and reminders. I began by sending out the Evite to RSVP two weeks before the event, followed by reminders on what the menu is expected to be. As a potluck style event, everyone was asked to also inform us of what they were bringing to ensure there were not three different piles of mashed potatoes sitting on our counter. Nobody ended up bringing mashed potatoes, but we did have the classic dishes such as stuffing, sweet potato casserole, and mac and cheese, courtesy of Chef Tini. Most importantly, we had a beautiful 13-pound garlic and herb turkey that was wrapped in a butter soaked cheesecloth.Â
The turkey — which I so affectionately named Hunter while brining — was a labor of love and a culmination of two weeks worth of research. As soon as the apartment decided to host Thanksgiving, I knew I needed to make a turkey, something that was easier said than done. In the past, I helped my mom make a turkey, as in I stood there and helped her with small tasks while she did a majority of the brunt work, but didn’t completely prepare me for the level of effort it would take. I understood that turkeys were incredibly easy birds to make dry, and if I wasn’t careful, that would be the fate of Hunter too. My main issue with cooking a turkey was the fine balance between buying cookware to prevent it from being dry or spending an obscene amount of money on something I would be making once. There were some workarounds: I could easily use a large spoon instead of a turkey baster and I could lay a bed of thick carrots and celery to prevent the bottom of the turkey from getting too greasy, but there were also some non-negotiables. For example, I bought a food thermometer to ensure that the temperature readings were accurate, but I didn’t know if I wanted to make the plunge to buy a meat injector. In all of the videos I had seen, the folks with the best turkey used a meat injector to continuously inject butter into the turkey. Instead of doing this, I chose to follow the cheesecloth method in which I soaked a cheesecloth in chicken broth, butter, and a white wine. The cheesecloth was then wrapped around the turkey for the entire cooking time, even while I was basting. While I don’t completely understand the science behind it, I do know that the turkey wasn’t dry when cut into.Â
My turkey journey started the day before, with a dry brine, and ended on Friendsgiving. While I cannot say a lot about the finer details of the night, I do know that my friends enjoyed the turkey, and that’s all that matters to me.