Happy Thanksgiving, Yankee types

Bet it's still dry and tasteless. No point getting all clever and exotic about it. Sausage meat, a few breadcrumbs, an onion put through the meat grinder with the sausage meat and giblets and a couple of roughly chopped onions mixed in well. Seasoning is salt, white pepper, ground coriander seeds, a clove or two ground up, bit of parsley, clove of garlic, plenty of sage and then shove into the cavity as well as the loose skin on the breast and anywhere else you can find loose bits or crevices. Anything left is rolled into meatballs and goes in with the chipolatas and spuds.

I've had the exotic fruit/walnut/exciting vegetable thing foisted on me by the achingly innovative and trendy and it's fucking gopping. The test of stuffing is if it can be sliced and would go well on a sandwich with mustard, lettuce and tomato the day after.
 
Bet it's still dry and tasteless. No point getting all clever and exotic about it. Sausage meat, a few breadcrumbs, an onion put through the meat grinder with the sausage meat and giblets and a couple of roughly chopped onions mixed in well. Seasoning is salt, white pepper, ground coriander seeds, a clove or two ground up, bit of parsley, clove of garlic, plenty of sage and then shove into the cavity as well as the loose skin on the breast and anywhere else you can find loose bits or crevices. Anything left is rolled into meatballs and goes in with the chipolatas and spuds.

I've had the exotic fruit/walnut/exciting vegetable thing foisted on me by the achingly innovative and trendy and it's fucking gopping. The test of stuffing is if it can be sliced and would go well on a sandwich with mustard, lettuce and tomato the day after.
Close to my recipe.
peanuts through the grinder as well.
and I add some cranberries in the final mix.
In fact, I prefer that to the turkey!
 
Bet it's still dry and tasteless. No point getting all clever and exotic about it. Sausage meat, a few breadcrumbs, an onion put through the meat grinder with the sausage meat and giblets and a couple of roughly chopped onions mixed in well. Seasoning is salt, white pepper, ground coriander seeds, a clove or two ground up, bit of parsley, clove of garlic, plenty of sage and then shove into the cavity as well as the loose skin on the breast and anywhere else you can find loose bits or crevices. Anything left is rolled into meatballs and goes in with the chipolatas and spuds.

I've had the exotic fruit/walnut/exciting vegetable thing foisted on me by the achingly innovative and trendy and it's fucking gopping. The test of stuffing is if it can be sliced and would go well on a sandwich with mustard, lettuce and tomato the day after.
You’d be wrong…dead wrong.

See what assuming does?

And I had such respect…
 
Well CR has already shot himself in the arse putting fruit in it. No doubt your recipe involves a bunch of posies laid on top of the tin that goes in the oven and has zilch to do with actually being poked up the delicious bird's bum, ya metrosexual deviant.
 
Well CR has already shot himself in the arse putting fruit in it. No doubt your recipe involves a bunch of posies laid on top of the tin that goes in the oven and has zilch to do with actually being poked up the delicious bird's bum, ya metrosexual deviant.
get stuffed!
Cranberries are hardy 'fruit' - they are raisins with a bad attitude.
Next time you are stuffing a bird (fnaar, fnaar), put a small amount of mix to one side, like 2 x meatballs, and add 3 or 4 cranberries. Just try it.
Now fokof and buy some shoes.
 
Already done by others and sampled, much to my disgust. Absolutely foul and doesn't belong in stuffing. May as well go full American and shove a cup of sugar in the mix.

Shoes are for vapid effete poseurs with delicate little twinkling toes who get a fit of the vapours walking across wet grass in wellies. Kaalpoot trotters, well armoured, skunks for the stomping of, are tres het. Gives the ntombezaan the shits when I walk over a patch of thorns then do the foot wiping thing on grass or sand to get rid of them instead of falling over and weeping while delicately plucking them from my hide. Admit it, your trotters were like leather as well as a kid. Easier and faster to just wipe thorns and things off than dig them out.

Only thing is to monitor for bits broken off in there. They can go a bit manky if not dislodged within a few days. Bougainvillea is a bastard for that, as are devil thorns and kameeldoring. The kameeldoring tips have some kind of nasty on them that causes a bit of trouble if broken off in your hide.
 
Already done by others and sampled, much to my disgust. Absolutely foul and doesn't belong in stuffing. May as well go full American and shove a cup of sugar in the mix.

Shoes are for vapid effete poseurs with delicate little twinkling toes who get a fit of the vapours walking across wet grass in wellies. Kaalpoot trotters, well armoured, skunks for the stomping of, are tres het. Gives the ntombezaan the shits when I walk over a patch of thorns then do the foot wiping thing on grass or sand to get rid of them instead of falling over and weeping while delicately plucking them from my hide. Admit it, your trotters were like leather as well as a kid. Easier and faster to just wipe thorns and things off than dig them out.

Only thing is to monitor for bits broken off in there. They can go a bit manky if not dislodged within a few days. Bougainvillea is a bastard for that, as are devil thorns and kameeldoring. The kameeldoring tips have some kind of nasty on them that causes a bit of trouble if broken off in your hide.
have bouganville at home. MrsR loves it.
me - ie el cnuto who has to sweep the flowers up and trim the bugger - doesn't.
You can wear chain mail - that thing is gonna jab you.
As a kid we had shitloads of dubbeltjies around. They are a bastard. Especially for bike tyres
 
Dubbeltjies are soft. It's the duiweltjies that get you as a kid. Eventually get hardened to them and just wipe them off, although they could probably pierce bike tyres if they're worn enough.

Worst buggers are the Kameeldoring. Those will go through a vellie into your hoof and are a bastard. Tips break off in you and go manky. Only reason to wear shoes in the bush, or just avoid going near them. Haak en steek or wag-'n-bietjie no real problem but they grab your clothing and skin if you pass too close. No real problem as you rarely find them on the ground.

Dubbeltjies. I see they're also called paper thorns on the interwebzthingy.

alternanthera_pungens9__fks.jpg


Duiweltjies. Devil thorns.

3%281%29.jpg


Kameeldoring.

images
 
Dubbeltjies are soft. It's the duiweltjies that get you as a kid. Eventually get hardened to them and just wipe them off, although they could probably pierce bike tyres if they're worn enough.

Worst buggers are the Kameeldoring. Those will go through a vellie into your hoof and are a bastard. Tips break off in you and go manky. Only reason to wear shoes in the bush, or just avoid going near them. Haak en steek or wag-'n-bietjie no real problem but they grab your clothing and skin if you pass too close. No real problem as you rarely find them on the ground.

Dubbeltjies. I see they're also called paper thorns on the interwebzthingy.

alternanthera_pungens9__fks.jpg


Duiweltjies. Devil thorns.

3%281%29.jpg


Kameeldoring.

images
Duiweltjies - that's the badger I meant.
and thank god we don't have khakibos hier in die Kaap.
That shit...
 
Apparently quite medicinal. Keeps flies away or something. Imported in horse feed from Oz or South America during the Boer War, along with blackjacks.
 
And Merlin loves diving into thickets of them. He's a merle border collie cross with a long soft furry coat, so a fucking blackjack magnet.

P7202726.JPG
 
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Can any of our stateside oppos explain what thanks giving is all about please?

From what I understand you basically have Christmas a month early, but without the decorations and presents.

And then you have proper Christmas a few weeks later.

Aren’t you still eating leftover turkey by the time you have to cook another one for Christmas Day?

No one even likes turkey that much. It’s just giant chicken.
Thanksgiving is just a harvest festival. It was a tradition no doubt brought from the UK originally. We have the same in Canada, except a month earlier due to the climate. The foods used are the in-season fresh ones. Serving big meals during harvest was common when most of the work was manual labour rather than with machinery. Thanksgiving was just intended to top it all off.

Turkey or ham are the popular meat. Turkey is common because there are usually lots of guests and turkeys are large enough to go around. Left overs often get turned into soup and frozen for use later.

If you don't have similar in the UK, then that's possibly due to urbanization and industrialization having severed the links between city and countryside for a longer period of time. I believe they have equivalents in continental Europe.
 
Thanksgiving is just a harvest festival.

If you don't have similar in the UK, then that's possibly due to urbanization and industrialization having severed the links between city and countryside for a longer period of time. I believe they have equivalents in continental Europe.
Harvest Festival still happens.
However, until that halloween bollocks infested UK, the 'traditional' feast night was November 5.
Much more fun, with all the bangy stuff.
 
Enjoy your holidays you bloody Yanks, you know we love you really!

And to our mates in Canada while I'm at it, all the best to you also....
We had Thanksgiving in Canada in October when the food was coming in fresh.

The Americans were late for WWI and late for WWII It should be no surprise that they are late for Thanksgiving as well.
 
wahshield/
do people really fry whole turkeys? Regularly?
What's the advantage (apart from 'you've been framed'-style amusing videos)?
/wah
I've never seen one, but Americans will have big propane fired pots for frying entire turkeys in. The main attraction of them seems to be the ability to create some truly horrific accidents when the inevitable happens with a huge pot of boiling oil. Sometimes though they just manage to burn their houses down with them.

Turkeys belong in an oven. Deep fried turkey sounds absolutely vile. However, Americans are fond of fat and grease with their meat. Perhaps it's the sort of thing that might catch on in Scotland.
 
From the excellent 'Lonely Kind of War' by Marshall Harrison, a FAC in Vietnam.

It being Thanksgiving the U.S. military practically guarantees that everyone gets a hot turkey dinner.

The night before Thanksgiving had been active and dreary. Just before midnight the NVA had unleashed the first rocket of a continuous all-night attack.

The dreary dawn brought an uneasy peace to the base camp. The cooks, who had been up all night trying to prepare the Thanksgiving dinner, were frantic. Their processing of the frozen turkeys had been continually interrupted, and now they found themselves with no way to bake the large, twenty-five-pound birds before the traditional noon meal. The mess sergeant's plea for a postponement fell on deaf ears. He was told frostily by the brigade commander that his troops always had their turkey dinners and that a few rockets from Charley, or an incompetent mess sergeant, were not going to break that tradition. In addition, if a certain mess sergeant couldn't find a way to feed a drumstick to every man jack on the Lai Khe base camp by 1300, then aforementioned sergeant would find himself humping the boonies as a rifleman until the day of his retirement, or death. And it didn't much matter which came first. Newly inspired, the mess sergeant returned to his field kitchen.

By noon a long line of men snaked through the rubber trees to the mess hall door. Our group had arrived early to establish a good position in the line, since most of us were scheduled to fly an afternoon sortie. Doug, our Australian, was visiting us for the day from Vung Tau and his staff job. He looked at me with some skepticism as I extolled the virtues of the American Pilgrim fathers and described how such a holiday came about. He decided that the Pilgrim fathers were a bunch of twits but was willing to go along with the story if it would get him a decent meal.

As we approached the serving table, a rancid smell assaulted my nostrils. Doug looked into the serving trays with shocked interest. Strange lumps lay in pools of grease. The normally boisterous troops became silent as they stared at them. The lumps seemed to stare back, grease bubbling around them.

"I can't believe it," the young trooper in front of me whispered in disbelief. "They fried the goddamned turkey. Who ever heard of fried turkey?"

The mess sergeant stood with folded arms behind the serving table. He glared at the trooper. "The goddamned colonel said we were going to have this goddamned turkey today, one way or another. Well, we didn't have time to bake it. Hell! We didn't even have time for some of it to thaw out. Frying was the only way to get it even part-way cooked by dinnertime, so quit your bitching. If you don't want it, don't eat it."

Most of us chose not to eat it, for the temperature was well over a hundred degrees inside the mess hall and the smell of the frying birds made many of the soldiers actively ill. Doug showed the same enthusiasm for the partially cooked bird as he did for any new project, attacking it with gusto. As we walked back toward our hootch his only comment was, "Interesting concept."
 

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