TURKEY!!!!!

FOOD, Inst it great? This is the story of a colleague of mine, Mark was his name, who had a particularly small stomach. I remember him telling me this story.

The time had come.

Anticipation grew.

Most of us were hungry, but I was famished. Due to over- eating at earlier thanksgiving parties, I decided to not eat a thing the entire day so that I could enjoy this moment. What a fool I was. The horrible pang of hunger only became worse as my nose detected a beautiful, succulent smell filled with several hints of sweet and meaty. A voice was chanting in my head, one word, over and over. Turkey. Turkey. Turkey.
My heart leaped and my eyes widened to see the turkey, plump and toasted brown to perfection. I could not see burn marks anywhere. The succulent bird sat on a pile of stuffing that had fallen out of its innards, floating on a pool of cranberry sauce also occupied by assorted fruits. The tray on which the dish was served was carried by my dad, the primary chef on thanksgiving, and thanksgiving only. Following my father was my mom, my cousin, my aunt, and my brother each holding a side dish. They were placed on the table one by one. Creamy white mashed potatoes accompanied by a small but elegant gravy boat clanked on the glass table first. Then came the coated herring, a delicious Russian family dish made the best by my grandma. It was put down close to the center of the long table. Then my cousin followed and slowly bent down to put the delicate plate filled with a good amount of stuffing which she so carefully carried. At this point I was dying of the sheer amount of anticipation which was almost choking me to death. Could I breathe? Could I live? I needed that turkey, and I would stop at nothing to get it.

“Okay, everyone” cooed my mother. “if you all will just wait a moment, we still have a few dishes
to bring out”.

My eyes were red, I was sweating, maybe even crying. My hand was clenched on my fork so tight that I felt it bend to the curvature of my hand. Nothing mattered anymore except the turkey. Then, miraculously, the turkey stood up and turned to me, brushing off the delicious juices off its thighs. Oh my god, am I hallucinating?

“Come eat me, mark” the turkey said sweetly, yet somewhat demonically. “I’m as good as can
be, mark. I’m toasted to perfection, stuffed with goodness, and battered with wondrous, delicious sauce”. I had enough. This torture had to end. Without thinking, I climbed up onto the edge of the table, eying my prize. All the other family members Sat puzzled as to why I was standing on the table. It seemed as if all attention was on me, but I didn’t care. My eyes followed the scent of my primary target: a warm, brown, over-sized turkey filled with carrots, bread, plums, apples, potato and love, marinaded in teriaki sauce mixed with soy and barbecue sauce, a mix that surprisingly goes together amazingly. I started to run for the turkey, jumping into a dive, and somehow not breaking the glass as I flopped on the table. I slid towards the turkey, not caring how many plates and dishes I had broken or pushed off the table. I was so close. When I arrived to my final destination, I hugged the turkey, taking giant bites off the top of the juicy, delicious bird. People were frantic, screaming at me, but it was bliss. I felt so good that I began to cry sweet tears of joy upon the giant bites of turkey breast, toasted on the outside, but tender and nice on the inside. In each bite, I could taste teriyaki, cranberry, the tasteful influence of fruits, and most of all:

“DELICIOUS TASTY TURKEY!!!!!” I screamed.

Yup, best day ever.