All posts by Jim

Annual Post on Turkey Smoking

SAN DIEGO, Original published in 1990 —Holidays, except for the weather, are pretty much the same for me out here in the southwest corner or back in Tennessee. To start, no one will let me smoke the turkey.

When I was growing up in Lebanon, and every time I return there for a holiday, my mother cooks the turkey. When there are only a few of us there, she makes a chicken taste like a turkey. She roasts the turkey, or the chicken, in the oven, and it comes complete with dressing and gravy. When we have a holiday out here, my wife cooks the turkey the same way my mother cooks the turkey. Every Thanksgiving and Christmas, I volunteer to cook the turkey. Every year, whether in Tennessee or out here in the Southwest corner, whoever is in charge of turkeys says no. They profess to love the turkey the way I fix it, but they say another time would be better. They say they want a traditional turkey.

I picked up turkey cooking while I was spending some considerable time about two-thirds of the way between here in the southwest corner and Tennessee. The Colonel, father of my oldest daughter, lived up in Paris, Texas, and he fed me my first smoked turkey. I loved it. Since then, I have modified his recipe somewhat and cook one fine smoked turkey. Since I can’t have it out here or in Tennessee, I thought someone with fewer traditionalists in their immediate family might like to have the recipe to try for the holidays.

Smoking a Turkey

INGREDIENTS:

  1. This is fairly important to the success of the whole affair. Pick a good one. The critical part is to make sure it will fit in the smoker
  2. 1 container large enough to hold the turkey and cover it with the magic elixir. I’ve been known to use a plastic bucket, but sometimes the dog gets upset as we normally use it for his water dish. This is okay as long as we stay out of biting reach of the dog for two or three days.
  3. 1 smoker, probably any kind that claims to be a smoker and any number of possible jury rigs would work; however, if I were using a “Weber” or like vessel, I would make sure that there was extra water in the smoker).
  4. 1 bottle of beer. Beer in longnecks is preferable but one should not become too concerned about the type of beer as “Lone Star” is a bit too elegant for this type of cooking. Besides, we wouldn’t want to waste a beer worth drinking on some dumb turkey. If one is desperate and doesn’t mind subjecting oneself to abject humiliation, it is permissible to stoop to using a can of beer.
  5. 1\2 cup of Madeira. Again, I wouldn’t be overly concerned about the quality of the wine, and in truth, any red wine is probably okay. However, I would stay away from “Night Train” wine as it has been known to eat through barbecue grills, smokers, and anything made of material weaker than that used in hulls of nuclear submarines.
  6. Angostura bitters
  7. Worcestershire sauce
  8. Chili powder
  9. Oregano
  10. Sage
  11. Honey
  12. Molasses
  13. Undoubtedly, there are numerous items that I have forgotten to list here, but that’s okay as it really depends on what your individual taste is — I don’t suggest substituting low fat milk for the beer, but most everything else is probably okay — and if it’s really important, I’ll realize I left it out when I get to the narrative of how to use all this stuff and include the forgotten ingredient there.

PREPARATION:

Thaw the turkey. Take all those weird things that they put in those plastic packages inside the turkey and cook them in a skillet without the plastic packages, turning them frequently. Then feed what you just cooked to the dog. It might placate him enough to keep him from biting you for taking away his water bucket. If there are traditionalists in the bunch, give the stuff to them rather than the dog and let them make gravy.

Put the turkey in large container. Pour beer and Madeira over turkey. If you have not allowed about 24 hours for the turkey to thaw or about 8-12 hours for marinating the turkey, call your invited guests and advise them that the celebration will be about two days later than indicated on the original invitation.

Sprinkle other ingredients over the turkey. Be plentiful. It’s almost impossible to get too much.

Crunch the garlic cloves I didn’t mention in the ingredients and add to the container. I normally use about four normal sized cloves for a normal sized turkey. Also add the previously omitted bay leaves, about 6-8 for that same normal sized bird.

Add enough water to cover the turkey although it probably wouldn’t be a disaster if a leg partially stuck out. Then put the container in a safe place, unless of course, you want the dog to be rapturously happy and not bite you until long after his teeth have fallen out.

Allow to sit undisturbed for 6-10 hours (longer is better and ten hours is not necessarily the upper limit but exceeding ten hours may have some impact on when you either eat or get tired of the turkey taking up all that safe space).

Put the turkey on smoker grill above water pan after lighting the charcoal (one or two coals burning well is the best condition for the charcoal) and placing soaked hickory chips, which I also forgot to mention, earlier on the charcoal — again, be plentiful — after soaking the chips for at least 30 minutes. Pour remaining magic elixir over the turkey into the water pan. Add as much water to the water pan as possible without overflowing and putting out the fire below. Cover. Do not touch. Do not look. Do not peek…unless it doesn’t start to smoke in about thirty minutes. Then peek. If it’s smoking, leave alone for at least six hours for a large normal sized turkey. It is almost impossible to overcook if you have added enough water at the outset. You should check and add water or charcoal throughout the process. I have found that mesquite charcoal is the best, as it burns hotter. Regular charcoal will do fine but will require more checking.

The secret to the whole process is to cook extremely slow, as slow as possible and still start the fire.

Serve turkey, preferably without the garlic cloves or bay leaves. Now is the time for “Night Train” wine or the good beer. Serve “Night Train” very cold as indicated on the label.

The turkey’s also good cold.

Shoot the dog.

Ruminating, a Love Poem About a Long Time Ago

ruminating while rustling through
old things in a drawer,
i came across an old pocket watch
it’s in the clock shop now;
the bespectacled balding man
said
he might put it in working order
in short order:
the watch holds memories.

i went to an old haunt tonight
after finding the watch;
people sitting around the piano bar:
no bellowing laughs,
all demure titters
appropriate for a piano bar,
titters for titillation:
sad, lonely.

walking home, taking a detour
along the beach;
deserted at night, the breakers
froth and roar;
removing my shoes, 
tossing them over my shoulder,
i walk through the shallows;
the briny sea seems warm
on my bare feet in the swirling sand.
my thoughts boil down to happiness;

you are the breakers on the sand
the watch ticking quietly,
no titters for titillation:
pure unleashed laughter.

with sand on my feet
walking away from the froth, the roar,
respecting the immensity of the sea;
walking home, i glanced at my wrist
to check the time
only to find the old watch is ticking
in the old man’s shop.

perhaps next week,
i will be able to tell the time.

For old sailors

first light:
the old mariner can sense it
because of hundreds of morning watches
stood on steel-decked bridges
beginning at 0345 when he announced “I have the watch and the con”
until 0730 when the watch relief showed up early
so the old mariner and his watch staff could eat breakfast
before officers call, quarters, and colors.

first light would vary, of course:
latitude and longitude have a bearing on such things
as well as weather
but
it comes as sure as day follows night
because
it is the harbinger of the change,
from. night to day.

first light comes subtly:
a new hand would not realize it was upon him
until it had flushed the sea
with grays or blues depending on the weather
while the stars vanished;
then it was too late
to shoot stars (in good weather)
but
the mariner would know,
have the quartermaster break out the sextant,
so the two could
stand on the bridge wing, port or starboard,
depending on the course, of course;
the mariner would shoot the stars
while the quartermaster logged the angles;
afterward, the two would huddle,
place the logged data into the forms
to arrive at the point where they really were
unless, of course,
the navigator deigned to wake up early
to shoot the stars himself.

the watch was accompanied by the aroma
of coffee, eggs, and bacon
wafting up from the mess decks
as  cooks and mess cooks had also risen early
to fix the morning mess
(which is why the old mariner found ways
to spend his time on the starboard bridge wing,
four decks above the galley);
standing there in the dark
with millions of stars and planets suffusing the sky;
he senses first light coming just before
the hint of change seeps onto the eastern horizon:
his world slowly waxes from dim to shades of grey,
about three-quarters of an hour before the orange ball
emerges from the eastern horizon
officially claiming sunrise: night for day.

Now five miles inland years later,
the mariner, now emeritus only,
will rise early,
not to stand the watch
but
perhaps because age heeds nature’s call
or
he just doesn’t sleep well after 0400 —
old habits of morning watches on the bridge —
he stands in the front room looking east,
drinking his coffee from his mug in the morning dark
as has been his habit for as long as he can remember;
he senses first light again,
watches the first inkling of grey
slink into the black of night;

after all, first light is still his favorite moment of the day.