Okay, I realize this is not Thanksgiving season, but I was reviewing in my mind some of the crazy things I’ve done during my years of cooking. Prominent in my mind was a Thanksgiving where I had decided that brining a turkey was the way to go. This was based, of course, on my many hours researching the perfect way to cook a turkey.
I can picture myself, so excited, driving to the store. I collected all my ingredients and headed home in bliss. I knew I was going to provide my loving family with the best turkey they had ever eaten (sorry Mom).
After hours of shopping and preparation, I finally had my “perfect” turkey brining in its “apple juice or cider” brine. Exhausted, I went to bed ready to roast my turkey in the morning.
God, or the universe, works in an amazing way when we sleep. Around 2 a.m. I awoke from a deep, exhausted sleep. Had I really used cider vinegar instead of apple cider? I ran out to the kitchen and removed the cover from my pot of turkey and brine. Took a nice, long, whiff. Oh, cider vinegar!!!!!! (Yes, the many exclamation marks are appropriate as to how I was feeling.)
Lots of salt and cider vinegar. This couldn’t end well. Can’t imagine where my mind was when I constructed this disaster, but I had to save my turkey. It was my turkey, myself and the kitchen sink with lots and lots of water. I rinsed, rinsed, and rinsed again.
Needless to say, either my family really loves me and didn’t say anything about their vinegar turkey, or I truly saved it in time. All I know is would swear I could taste a hint of vinegar in every bite. Was it my imagination, or the truth? No one will ever know, because I never told a soul.