From dixie@flash.netThu Jan 20 16:28:59 2000 Date: Thu, 20 Jan 2000 08:27:23 -0600 (CST) From: Dixie Davis <dixie@flash.net> Reply to: johnny@charm.net To: johnny@charm.net
My mom and I have had an often contentious, strained relationship. But occasionally something happens that really makes me appreciate her and her many talents.
Last week, I was sitting in a deer blind, where I had been for close to 3 hours. Having about given up on seeing a deer that day, I waited while a flock of wild turkeys came into view. They were busily running about, pecking at the ground. I took aim at one through the scope of my deer rifle and pulled the trigger. The turkeys all took off running, save one, which lay dead on the ground.
I walked over and picked it up, then carried it to the truck. I figured my boyfriend would hear my shot and come see what I got. While I waited for him, I started plucking feathers. Once I had denuded the poor turkey, except for the long, very stubborn wing feathers, and the tail feathers, I gave up on my boyfriend and drove back to the house, carrying my trophy in to show to Mom.
I really wasn't sure where to proceed, after the plucking. I remember cleaning chickens as a child, but it wasn't a process I directed; I just did as I was told. Anyway, Mom and I finished plucking the tail feathers, and she gave me the option of plucking out the wings or just cutting them off at the joint. I chose the latter. She showed me where to make the cut, below the tailbone.The hole we made was much larger than the one the folks at Butterball make. Anyway, we scooped out the guts, the giblet, and the crawl, along with the heart, lungs, and liver. The smell of them wasn't one I associated with fowl. It smelled much more like the intestinal contents of a deer. I suppose intestinal contents generally have a particular odor, one which most of us are not privy to. (It's not especially pleasant.)
Mom showed me how to split open the giblet and peel this liner part off. She told me to be sure and cut off the green part from the liver, because it would make the liver taste funky. She cut the bird's head off, telling me that Big Daddy (my great-great-grandfather) liked to eat turkey heads. He thought the brain and the tongue were especially tasty. Mom gave me the choice of making soup from the head, so I could taste the tongue and brains for myself, or throwing the head to the dogs. The dogs got a treat. But first---you know those pictures of hunters, holding the heads of deer up, showing off their kill? I got my boyfriend to take a picture of me, holding up my turkey head. Then I gave it to the dogs. Yeah, pretty cheesy, huh?
After we cleaned the turkey's insides, we made a small fire from newspapers out in the yard. Mom instructed me to hold the bird over the fire to singe off the pinfeathers. I dutifully held the bird by the neck, over the flames, but I held it so long she reminded me we were singing it, not roasting it. She also told me that Big Daddy liked to make a soup from the legs. The meat, she said, is tough and sinewy, but there is enough to eat. (I'm not talking drumsticks, I'm talking the feet part.) I held the turkey by the neck over the flames, burning the feet so I could peel the skin off the legs.
Bobby and I were going back to Austin, so we froze the turkey, as we wouldn't be around to eat it. But the experience of cleaning it reminded me how grateful I am to still have Mom around, so I can continue to learn from her.
BTW, I didn't get a deer. :-( Doe season is still on, but I'm leaving Friday to go out of town for a week, so I won't be able to hunt any more.
Dixie
Dixie Davis Austin Corgi Rescue A'89, SF'90, ng
Her life was okay. Sometimes she wished she were sleeping with the right man instead of with her dog, but she never felt she was sleeping with the wrong dog. - Change of Life by Judith Collas