The Day The Thanksgiving Bird Imploded

I sauntered into the kitchen. That 30 pound bird smelled so good. Opening the oven door to baste the turkey… I had a mini heart attack.

My Thanksgiving turkey had imploded.

Sitting in 3 inches of juice, with black charred ribs showing from under the skin, I panicked.

I ran to my dad.

“I need to show you something.” I whispered. “NOW.”

I’ve began cooking Thanksgiving at 17-years old.

My dad walked up to me and smiled. “We’re having 30 people over for dinner and you will be in charge of all the cooking!”

I cried, whined and begged, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Bekki, YOU will be cooking Thanksgiving dinner.”

At that point in my life, I could make spaghetti and a bowl of cereal, so the thought of “destroying” a holiday meal for 30 people made my face turn green.

Dad smiled.

“I will be there every step of the way,” Dad said. “I promise.”

I can still his face as we handed me a piece of paper and pencil.

“First, write out a menu.”

He took me step-by-step:

• Menu
• Recipes
• Grocery list
• Prep cook tasks
• Cooking times
• Cooking schedule
• Finding bowls and serving utensils

As a homeschool mom, I can tell you he was teaching me project planning! But as a teenaged girl, I thought I was being tortured.

By the time I was standing in the kitchen looking at an imploded turkey, I was a seasoned Thanksgiving chef with 6 successful feast notches on my chef apron.

“I need to show you something.” I whispered. “NOW.”

Dad followed me into the kitchen, leaving our house full of guests in the other room.

“I don’t know what happened. The bird has only been on the over for a couple of hours… but, look.”

The charred black ribcage mocked us.

Much later, we would realize that my parent’s oven malfunctioned and had spiked to over 600 degrees, but now…

…NOW, I just needed to figure out how to serve dinner to the 23 people in the house, without dying of embarrassment.

We grabbed one more accomplice. My cousin Sue.

Dad gave us careful instructions.

• Stand shoulder to shoulder
• Walk sideways to the garage
• I will carry the destroyed turkey out the back door

Trying not to laugh, we side stepped while dad removed the bird.

No one noticed.

Standing in the garage, laughing, we realized we had another problem.

What are we going to feed everyone?

By the way, this Thanksgiving is one of my all-time favorite memories.

Dad hopped in his truck and reappeared 30 minutes later with a cooked turkey breast.

We popped it into the oven and proceeded to finish all the side dishes.

No one knew about the imploding turkey until much much later.

Sometimes, the BEST memories are born out of adversity, challenge, and even kitchen catastrophes.

How about you?

Do you have a story of disaster turned to blessing?

PS- How many turkeys have you cooked? I just counted. I’m up to around 50 and only one was a disaster!

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Ways to distract your houseful of guests when your turkey implodes.

Have the Kids and guests make a fort.

Make a cootie catcher and tell jokes

Have them play Scattergories

Send everyone on a scavenger hunt!

Pull out paper and pens and have them learn a few Doodles together. Better yet? Pair the adults with kids and have the kids teach them!

Convince a cousins to help you dance as a shield.

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