My wife and I cooked a turkey for our New Year's Eve gathering. Since we had a frozen turkey left behind by her mom when she was here just before Xmas, and ham was had on Xmas Eve, it seemed natural to feed Mer/San, the Katz-Silvermen, Cindy, Max and his friend Steven, Abby and ourselves from the 12 pound Tom that was in suspended animation in our kitchen. Since it was universally agreed upon by everyone in attendance (much to our delight and surprise) that we had done a great job with the turkey, I thought you all might appreciate a look at how we did it.
STEP 1: Email close friend with culinary education (whose past turkeys have been awesomely delicious) and experience to ask about brining. While waiting for response, read numerous internet articles and Food Network posts about same. Eventually reach point of no return (10pm) and begin brining without advice from close friend.
STEP 2: Bring to boil about 3 cups of water in 5 gallon pot. In the absence of apple cider vinegar, say "fuck it" and add 2 bottles of Woodchuck Granny Smith Hard Apple Cider and indeterminate amount of white vinegar. Add all kosher salt left in the house. Then, in amounts that amuse you, add black pepper, dried dill, fresh chopped basil, red onion left in fridge for a month, and remainder of green onions from previous recipe. Add rosemary, thyme and sage, then parsley because you're a little OCD and the four must always travel together. Realize that the fluid level is ridiculous, and call upon the spirit of Archimedes. Quit adding crap.
STEP 3: Yank neck off turkey and save it without knowing why. After rinsing and fisting turkey, locate giblet pack beneath neck skin (because THAT makes sense) and shout in triumph, also saving this in Tupperware for no reason at all. Rinse and rinse and rinse turkey, saying nice things to it and patting it. Once fluid runs clear, submerge that big bastard in a pot, spilling cold gross soup everywhere. Hold pot shut with rubberbands, stick in fridge, ruining that with overflow also. Check email to find advice from close friend says, essentially, not to do all that shit you just did, because you won't have time. Scrub whole kitchen like CSI is on the way. Spend most of next day trying to extract beers and leftovers with a 5 gallon pot full of raw bird in the way.
STEP 4: The following evening, extract turkey from the science experiment you doused it in yesterday, and lay it gently on parchment paper spread upon counters free of all the stuff you normally use in your kitchen. My toaster is still on top of the fridge as I write this. Watch Martha Stewart video of spatchcocking (which I can no longer find), feel sorry for turkey. Get three heftiest kitchen knives and a pair of plastic handled scissors. Break scissors instantly, throw them away. Use largest knife to remove turkey's spine by hacking through the skin and tissue surrounding the backbone. Use serrated knife to chop through ribs and stuff, finally twisting and breaking backbone loose with bare hands. Do Predator impression. Think about Jack the Ripper. Flip turkey when you get a second, you referential prick.
STEP 5: Break ribs of turkey with two deft and satisfying punches. Flatten turkey out with legs twisted up and out to display meat and complete violation of the turkey. Rub turkey with olive oil, margarine, black pepper and nonexistent kosher salt. Use sidewalk salt instead. Also, the aforementioned quartet of parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme come back out for this, along with dried mustard and more advice. Get it under the skin and all over, wacky crazy. Put turkey in oven at 350 degrees, basting it in the runoff and rotating every 20 minutes. Stop when other friend who knows more than you about food says, "Stop," or when it looks like the above picture.
STEP 6: Eat turkey.
