Over the past several years, i have posted the below, a column i wrote about smoking a turkey in 1990 for The Lebanon Democrat. i have been repeating the column here around Thanksgiving and paying my respects to JB Leftwich, my journalism mentor, advisor, and close family friend who would repeat his column about his grandmother’s recipes (carrot cake?) around Christmas. Over those years, i have kept adding explanations on top of explanations. This morning i read them and thought “This is not good journalism, Coach (i always called him “Coach”).” So this is the only intro this year. Thanks, Coach.

Dec 10, 1990, 10:36 pm

SAN DIEGO—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.

NOTE: We got a new komodo grill recently, and i am in heaven smoking the turkey this year.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Solon to the old man:

ah, old man,
do you ever stop dreaming?
even when you know,
unlike before, in your youth,
now that your time is over,
whatever you are dreaming
cannot become reality
because time is running out,
do you no longer dream
about what might be,
or rather,
what might have been?

Old man:

oh no, oh no,
dreaming is a gift forever;
it defies what more subjective folks
rely upon as truth;
when truth is, in reality,
what we choose it to be,
while
dreaming is what could be,
will be, is;
even now,
when i cannot make it happen,
i can dream
about wonderful things,
and
if i stop dreaming,
i fear i will be dead
before dying.

Solon to the old man:

 ah, dream on.

It is Veteran’s Day.

Sunset actually. i’m sitting on our patio with this view:

Mr. Martin, aka Bombay martini, and i are discussing the day.

It was a good day. i got a lot done. Completed the garden maintenance and most of the replanting. Cleaned up the grill. Posted what i thought was a hilarious post. Cleaned up some files, and, of course, took a nap. My dear bride brought home an unexpected surprise, pimento cheese spread.

So, Martin and i sat here contemplating if we should climb the slope to actually see the sun set. There’s always a slim chance of catching a green flash. But i’m settled in, and if i were to ascend the slope, i would be likely to spill Martin. That would be a shame. So we sat here and discussed things.

i thought about posting more photos of veterans to honor them but decided to stop. You see, i suspect most of us who are still around are just a bit embarrassed with the attention. Like me. My time in the Navy spanned 27 years with credit for just over 22 because i took time out to chase being the follow-on to Fred Russell and Grantland Rice.

My decisions to get in and then back in weren’t quite so noble. Facing an unexpected 1A — i wonder how many people know what that term means — i worked to get into Navy OCS rather than being a ground pounder in Vietnam. Then, getting back in was primarily a financial decision to ensure security for my wife and child on the way.

Oh, there were hard times, hard times. There was some sweat, some danger, and lots and lots of fun and satisfaction. Oh, by the way, i did fall in love with the sea and being a mariner. i also found satisfaction in what i thought was being a pretty good leader.

i have held for a long time one of the best things that could positively impact our country is for everyone, after turning 18, spend two years in government service. It wouldn’t work today for that to be all military service, but i think the mixing with other folks from all walks of life, getting the feeling of being involved, maturing for another couple of years, and being held responsible would be good for all of us.

But hey, i don’t know what most of you folks apparently know.

So i will sit here with Martin, listening to Mozart’s Symphony 33, watching the skies darkening and the horizon’s pink fading into the Pacific deep.

To all of the veterans i have run across in my life, regardless of your reasons, putting your life on the line for our country has gained my lifelong respect.

God bless America.

Retired folks seem more than capable of entertaining themselves. Sometimes that entertainment shows the differences in each of us.

For example, Maureen is an artist with an amazing capability for color and design. She pursues art. Even her sewing projects are art in the process. In the last year or so, she has also pursued felting. The finished products are truly works of art. And then, she gets these ideas and they just seem to work, like the felt piece hanging in our family room.

And then, she adds a twist by putting her felting art around a tall and slender glass (maybe a vase, hmm?) and inserting a small, micro light string.

That’s what you get when you can do what she does.

Me?

Well, i appreciate art, but i grew up with a father who was a practical man, and then, i spent just over 22 years in the Navy. And i have to tell you, there is not a lot of art in the Navy of old, beautiful things, yes, like the sea and the sky and the dolphins playing alongside in the bow wave. And some of us believe driving an old Navy steam ship without computers was as much art as science. But i don’t think you can call me someone who creates art. i am a practical man.

i’ve spent the bulk of the last several days replanting and refreshing the soil in our garden boxes. Our tomatoes are fewer but we still have them. Even the strawberries are blooming, although having one or two strawberries every day or so is only satisfying if you are the person who is maintaining the garden. And i cured our new Kamado grill. The first steak night was a success, she sits outside awaiting my first smoked turkey for Thanksgiving.

For an example of my practicality, there is a backstory. For years, my father saved the change in his pocket and gave it to Blythe and later Sam. Much later, i followed suit taking my coins and depositing into a savings account we created for Sam.

My Aunt Bettye Kate Hall knew of this practice and for a Christmas or birthday gift, gave me a battery powered coin sorter. i used it until it broke, then doctored it a bit and used it for another half-dozen years or so. It was about ten years ago when it broke for good. i have hand sorted the coins since then until a couple of months ago when i did a search and found some coin sorters but individual sorters for my pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters.

The problem with my purchase is none are very steady. i was frequently knocking them over, picking up the coins on my hands and knees and starting over. So last week, i used my drill to fix my problem. i made a coin sorter holder. As i finished in my garage workshop, i laughed. Maureen had hung her felting piece about two days earlier. The two projects demonstrated, i thought, the difference between the two of us.

i carried my project into the house, an old piece of 2×3 lumber with four drill holds holding colorful coin sorters. i took them into the family room, showed it to Maureen and asked what she thought of “work of art.” After she picked herself off the floor from laughing, i started to leave when i turned and suggested we put it on the mantel, finely decorated by a master named Maureen.

i don’t think she laughed.

My piece of art is in my office closet…but it is useful, and i like it.

it’s a’coming, lawd, lawd
it’s a’coming
don’t know where
don’t know when
don’t know how
but it’s a coming
lawd, lawd
sometimes
i can smell it in the air
like an impending August rain
sometimes
i can hear it swooshing
like it was riding the wind
sometimes
i can hear it whispering
like ghost riders in the sky
yet
it’s a’coming, lawd, lawd
it’s a coming.