Oh except me cursing at the turkey.
This was my second attempt at grappling with the American 'brine your turkey' idea. Seems to be something to do with marinading the thing for 24 hours prior to roasting. In Blighty we toss it in the oven with a load of duck grease plastered on it, sit back, quaff too much fizz and then rescue it from near incineration having had a quick nap after the Queen's speech.
My first brine bottle from Williams Sonoma had crashed and burned as it were, in the garage a few days ago - had just discovered turkey too big to bung in fridge so was going to run the risk of my garage being rodent free over the Holiday season and park the turkeys butt in the chilly confines of the car park. An hour after that clean up it was back into the store to rethink my brine offensive.
Cheerily enthused by a helpful assistant, I left the store with 2 skillets and an ice cream scoop (I would say don't ask, but am in charge of making Blini's from scratch this evening for a get together, and the nice lady assured me that these were the products to make it happen). Oh, I also had some dry brine and a headful of questions which the assistant affirmed would be answered on the inside of the can.
Skip forward to today and have opened my brine can hoping for further instruction but none are to be found - suffice to say have taken the matter into my own hands and assumed you just slather the beast with the stuff, bung it in the oven and revert to earlier practice of cracking fiz and searching for Queen's speech on cable...
Right - off to watch Polar Express, track Santa on Norad (it's truly addictive) and crack fizz open - Happy Holidays!
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