24 May 2010

Doctor, doctor

Last Thanksgiving, the grocery had one of its typical come-ons: buy one turkey, get one free. In this case though, they were Butterball turkeys, not some off brand, and the kicker was that they were also on sale for $0.49/lb., so I came home the proud owner of about 35 lbs. of turkey that cost me all of $8.00. One of my prizes was duly consumed on T-Day, while the other has been sitting in the freezer.

In the last few weeks, I've just about had enough of having a 17-lb. turkey take up most of my available freezer space, so a little over a week ago, I set it in the refrigerator to defrost and last Friday, I roasted it. Given how unseasonably cool it's been for the last week (probably actually colder than it was last Thanksgiving), roast turkey, gravy, wild rice and a medley of wax beans and baby carrots went down pretty nicely.

But then there are all those leftovers (which is great, as far as I'm concerned. The others get a bit restive).

Sunday lunch was turkey tetrazzini. I hadn't planned on serving turkey tonight, but the day got away from me, as days so often do, when I got mired in other business. So, I had an A-HA moment, and decided to make turkey curry.

When I'd finally served up dinner, I noted the new Bon Appetit sitting by my elbow, the cover of which said something like "and it uses leftovers." More to the point, it uses chicken leftovers and turkey can always be substituted for chicken. I flipped to the recipe.

"Hey, listen to this," I told the assembled company, and started reading bits of the recipe aloud.

"MOMMY," said the daughter in tones of dudgeon.

"What?" I responded distractedly, wondering about the merits of Major Grey's chutney in salad dressing.

"Are you READING?"

"Mmm," I muttered through a mouthful of green beans, thinking that I had dried udon in the pantry and maybe that could be substituted for fresh.

"How hippocratical!" she announced.

"What?" I asked, looking at her in bemusement.

"You are hippocratical! We're not allowed to read at the table!" she huffed.

I rolled my eyes heavenwards. "Who knew? Now I'm a doctor. Be healed, my child."

"MOMMY!"

The basis of the curry recipe is here.

And don't forget! My photos have moved to When All This Actual Life Played Out, my photo blog. No photos of curry there, though. Or hippocratical oaths.

Go listen to some good music: "Bad Case of Loving You (Doctor, Doctor)" from the album The Very Best of the Island Years by Robert Palmer. I am biding my time, filling the moments, trying to get things done.

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