Have you ever had that experience where you've never in your life heard a word, and then all of a sudden you're hearing it everywhere? (It's like the "baguette" thing, if you remember Don Hollinger on "That Girl.")
Well, I had that experience with "Turducken." My good friend Pat casually dropped it into conversation one day, as in "They're having a turducken for Thanksgiving." On further inquiry, I learned that it's a turkey, stuffed with a duck, which is stuffed with a chicken. Get it? Tur-duck-hen. The name just cries out for a good limericks, doesn't it?
Weird concept, huh? I found it highly amusing and then forgot all about it. But around Thanksgiving, I was watching the Food Channel to see Paula what's-her-name, the smiley southern cook, and what was she cooking? Turducken! She raved and raved and I was further intrigued.
Then, while sewing one day, I was watching the family soap opera (my mom and sister and I all watch and it feels weirdly like extended family), and one guy went into this whole thing about turduckens.
Clearly, the universe was thrusting turduckens in my face. So, I got online and learned that the concept was invented by Paul Prudhomme, who actually got people to do all that deboning and cramming of one fowl into another, in their own kitchens. If you have the urge to read about it, check this out. It conjures up some very funny images (for me, anyway) and makes cooking a plain old turkey seem so EASY.
So. Guess what we're having for Christmas dinner?
How could I not? Fortunately for me, Roger was as amused and intrigued by the idea as I am. We ordered one (pre-stuffed) from CajunGrocer.com, which research revealed is the source raved about by various reviewers. It's been sitting in the fridge for a few days now, thawing. It looks pretty normal, sort of like a slightly squashed turkey.
When cooked and sliced, it's supposed to look like this:
That's stuffing between the fowl layers, by the way.
Out of an abundance of caution, we have a precooked ham sitting in the fridge to heat fast just in case the thing is too awful to serve to our guests. But I'm hopeful.
It's the Year of the Turducken at our house. I'll let you know how it turns out.
Merry Christmas, every one!