For my son Bob, Sunday night’s prime rib dinner was but a consolation prize, though an admittedly tasty one. He’d have preferred a meal mainly associated with late fall and early winter: turkey.
As we finished eating, he wondered aloud why so many people have allowed society to dictate to them that turkey only be eaten on Thanksgiving and Christmas.
“Why can’t you have turkey for Easter?” he asked. “Or why can’t you just have it on a Wednesday night if you want it? I think you can. And if there’s a lot left over, great. Then you can have turkey sandwiches for a week.”
I think he’s right. If you’ve got enough eaters around to consume a normal-sized bird, or can find a small enough one to work for just a few people, why not have turkey whenever you want to?
Whereas Bob just loves the turkey itself, I merely like the turkey but love the dressing and gravy. Basically, were I unconcerned about my health, I could live on dressing and gravy. As news editor Kim Jackson says, what’s not to like about “grease-soaked bread covered in turkey-flavored fat.” Kim is also right, of course, though Bob derides dressing as “soggy” and won’t eat it.
His sister Pam won’t eat it either, claiming it looks like cat vomit, which, having cleaned up many piles of that, I can attest that it does not.
Anyway, the bottom line here is: You want turkey on Easter, the Fourth of July, whenever, I say go for it. Bon appetit.