Monday, November 19, 2012


'My roommate Angel Eyes comes in with all these bags of groceries.

“Are you going to make the dressing for us Thanksgiving?” she asks.
“Sure, I’d be glad to!”
“How about the gravy? Will you make the giblet gravy too?”She asks.
“OK. I’ll go get a turkey to cook, and make the giblet gravy.”
“You don’t have to get a turkey. T-Bird is cooking the turkey at her house” she says.
“Well, then Teresa should be making the giblet gravy” says I.
Angel Eyes looks at me all baffled.
She blinks twice--*blinkblink*-- and says:
“Well” I say “Because you need the drippings to make turkey giblet gravy. And also the giblets, which come with the turkey.”
I said it with all the kindness in the world, but it still comes out with an edge.
Angel Eyes reaches into one of her grocery bags and pulls out a couple pouches of Chicken Gravy mix.
“Can you maybe” --*blinkblink*-- use this to make the turkey giblet gravy?” she asks.
I can’t help it. I reach into one of her bags and pull out a can of sweet potatoes.
“I don’t know Angel Eyes. Do you think you can use these to make green bean casserole?”
God, I feel like such a prick.
I’m so glad I’m not a chef any more.

Anyway, Thanksgiving morning comes and T-Bird brings the cooked turkey over so I can make giblet gravy. She had called two days before to find out how long to cook it.
"You got a whole turkey, yes?" I ask.
"Yes, a whole turkey" she says "Should I have gotten just a breast?"
"No, you did good. The whole turkey will have the giblets and the neckbone. They are either in the carcass, or sometimes they put them in the neck flap, in a little paper bag. Just take them out of the bag before you cook the bird."

So T-Bird brings in the turkey on thanksgiving morning. Its a beautiful golden brown.
I drain the stock and grease off the pan.
I look in the pan. No Giblets
I look in the carcass. No Giblets.
I open up the neck flap. No giblets.
"Hey T-Bird, where are the giblets for this turkey?"
"Oh, I got them right here."
She reaches into her purse and pulls out a baggie with the giblets in it.
They are just as raw as a live cow, giblet juice in the bottom of the bag.
I can hardly believe it.
So in my best Pepe Le Pew voice I say
"Hoh-hoh-ho! and what ees thees my sweets? A courtship gesture? The raw giblets are so nice. so HOT. We can make the love now, yes?"


Anonymous said...

Ha Ha that is great! Good retort!

soubriquet said...

Don't feel bad about it Steve, you're a skilled man, an expert, and you served your time learning an art, a science.

It's like expecting a musician to perform with a kid's plastic guitar, asking a poet to write Wal-Mart greeting cards, sending a sailor to sea without charts, asking a chef to use factory-made sauces.

Just below this comment box, it says 'Please prove you're not a robot'.
And you're not a robot. Being treated as a kitchen imbecile, quite rightly triggered your snark.
She probably had no idea what she did wrong, and it's true that chefs are often assholes. But you know. Chefs earn their chrome-steel assholes, whereas most of us just come with the cheap factory item, ready fitted.

Have a happy thanksgiving, Steve.

flask said...

you don;t even have to be an expert to get this.

they might as well ask you to make gravy from toast.

i know poodles that know that.

bulletholes said...

I came home today and there are 3 cans of whip topping in the fridge. Sitting on top of the fridge is a 300 dollar professional model KitchenAid mixer that can make fresh whipped cream in about 2 minutes. My head wants to explode.