A lost foot. Some middle bulges. We’ve all been there. And the heads. How do you budget for baking the shallow end that is the turkey’s head when the body is almost 3 inches deep? Directions? Naaaaahhhhh.
Then MomBert whispered, “We’re going to cover it in chocolate ganache.”
OH, YES! I swear this is all they do on baking shows: cover, fill, layer everything with ganache. Even ganache with flavors! It sounds fancy as hell.
Turns out a ganache is exactly two ingredients: heavy cream and bittersweet chocolate. The End.
We doused every part of that little turkey cake with ganache and then tucked it in the fridge next to the world’s oldest bottle of orange juice.
I’m not sure if you know this; but when ganache cools, it essentially becomes fudge. Fudging amazing fudge. That little turkey is sitting in a pool of fudge. It’s little bulgy middle? Fudge. Fudging amazing fudge.
Please pause for a moment and imagine getting this as a phone call or answering machine message because it has been happening before the creation of cell phones and videos. MomBert’s Christmas collection is not quite as diverse.
I was in mid rant about something, so I thought it was someone yelling. That’s how loud it was. We stood and waited. He called again, and again. Tromping through what was probably poison ivy, we went over a little mound and spotted him in the trees just below us.
He was standing on a log, all alone; we assumed he was looking for love. So, of course, we catfished him.
From previous adventures, Adventure Buddy has a turkey call app. She found some hen clucks and sent him a few, “Hey sexy boyfriend” calls.
You can hear her giggling in the background.
He was very responsive and started to walk a little closer while puffing up a bit.
We did not get a full display until she played what we think is a fighting purr. We left this poor turkey not knowing if someone was going to fuck him or fight him. Sorry, Tom.
We could still hear him calling as we made it down the ridge.
Turkey hunters, please don’t yell at me if we got the calls and the body language wrong. I don’t hunt and really only eat these guys once a year!
I took my first nap since all of this bullshit happened! I have tried to nap; but as soon as I lay down, I can’t get my head to shut up. The same thing happens when I go to bed at night so I’ve also been afraid to nap because it might make it even harder to get to sleep.
However today’s combination of a good hike and weird eating schedule had me out cold. I woke up under two cats. That’s a good nap.
Getting out of the house and into the woods definitely helped my state of mind. Of course, everybody seems to have the same idea right now so the metro parks are full. However that didn’t stop the turkey population from getting out and looking for love.
I never noticed before how iridescent their feathers are. These guys are gorgeous from the neck down. That was the question of the day. Why all these elaborate feathers and then a bald head? I understand the bald head with vultures. They’re dipping their heads into carrion all day, but turkeys?
I guess the look works. These two toms were gobbling from across the lake, attracting our attention and that of the hen investigating bird feeder droppings. She didn’t giggle quite as much as I did every time they gobbled.
I saw that Netflix released season 4 of Nailed It! I am way more happy about that than I am about this Tiger King bullshit.
MomBert likes a good baking show, but she doesn’t have Netflix. So around my sister’s birthday which falls on or close to Thanksgiving, we were trying to explain the show to MomBert. More to the point, I suggested that my sister explain it and then demand some Pinterest monstrosity for her birthday cake.
This was the result:
MomBert thought she had the situation under control. One turkey shaped cake pan plus two turkey cakes should equal one fully rounded turkey not a conjoined twin situation. Nailed it!
The reveal! We’re always ready for the sideshow. My sister is particularly relieved because we made her close her eyes and kept chanting that we were bringing her an opossum.
Entering the metro park, two turkeys slow walked in the crosswalk in front of my car. Turkeys, they’re all about safety. They joined a group of six who were kicking through leaves in the woods to the left of the road. While I gawked from the driver’s seat, Adventure Buddy came slow walking up the road from the parking lot, keeping a wary eye on the rafter. (That’s a group of turkeys. Learning.) She had already taken video of her car being surrounded by turkeys. Terrifying. They’re basically miniature dinosaurs.
The park’s post about turkey mating season suggested that over 100 turkeys lived there and could best be seen in the open meadows and along the edge of the woods. So rather than backtrack from the parking lot to the group along the road, we diligently followed the map and slogged through puddles, and mud in the rain along the edges of two meadows. Adventure Buddy ended up ankle deep in her tennis shoes, and even my hiking boots weren’t totally cutting it. No turkeys.
Having completed the muddy, swamp portion of our hike, we went back along the paved road to check up on the original turkeys. We were rewarded with a small group.