Mary Kay writes:
In keeping with Ghanaian tradition, we received a live fowl for Christmas again this year. Having given in to the children’s horror last year, we gave the guinea hen away, rather than kill it and eat it ourselves. But this year’s gift was a HUGE turkey. So I was determined not to let this one get away.
After all, I come from good pioneer stock, right? My ancestors settled the hills of Tennessee, and the plains of Texas and North Dakota. I read all the Laura Ingalls Wilder books as a girl. And my mom always talked about her grandmother going out back, catching a chicken and wringing its neck for supper.
So if they could do it, I could! Well …. maybe…. with a little help….. Please?
So Charlie got the kids out of the house, under the guise of a driving lesson up at the MUCG campus. There, that will stop the complaints from the peanut gallery. Our boys, especially Chip, really don’t want to know that their food was once a live animal!
Then, I sweet-talked our security guard, Michael, into helping me. Having grown up in a small village, he knew exactly what to do. Michael slit the turkey’s throat and let him bleed out. Then, he poured boiling water over it, and we plucked him. I think Michael was pretty surprised that I would help!
But we had an interesting conversation about food – how we in the west never really see our food alive, only packaged in the grocery store. And which parts of a turkey are edible – everything except the feathers, it turns out. Needless to say, I was not at all hesitant about parting with the feet, head, and intestines – my “gift” to Michael for helping me. Well, I felt guilty about taking all the good parts, so I gave him some of the meat as well.
I never weighed it, but the whole turkey was huge probably 18 to 20 pounds or so. He was so big that I ended up having to cut it into quarters to package and freeze it. But that will give us several good turkey dinners, not to mention the turkey soup afterwards from the bones, over the next few months. Yum!
I’m just glad that we don’t have to perform blood sacrifices any more. Next year, Michael says I have to do the whole thing myself. Where is Butterball when you need them?
“What is more pleasing to the Lord: your burnt offerings and sacrifices or your obedience to His voice? Obedience is far better than sacrifice. Listening to Him is much better than offering the fat of rams.”
(1 Samuel 15:22, NLT)
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