How to Fry a Thanksgiving Turkey

I can't believe this video has been on YouTube for over a year and I've never seen it. But, then again, I never wanted to fry a turkey. 

So here's a day-after-Thanksgiving gift for everyone who loves turkey and/or loves William Shatner!

"Eat, Fry, Love: a Cautionary Remix"

Happy Thanksgiving (oink! oink!)

Like everyone else, we watch the Food Network’s “Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives,” starring Guy Fieri, the gastronome with the white (yellow?) spiky hair. He can be obnoxious, but the restaurants he visits always look appetizing in a greasy-spoon kind of way. Last week’s hour-long “best of” episode was especially appealing because it featured, among other places, Mike’s Chili Parlour, an ancient hot dog palace located in Ballard, just north of downtown Seattle. Since we were flying up there to be with my sister Vicki for Thanksgiving, Tim’s eyes immediately lit-up.

“Look at that enormous chili dog!” he said in a food-induced trance. “Do you think Mike’s is on the way to your sister’s?”

I can certainly take a hint and so quickly went to Google Maps. Mike’s was indeed on the way to Vicki’s house, if a bit off the beaten track. I printed the directions and called my sister to tell her we would be taking a side trip to Ballard en route to her house. While on the phone, she asked her husband if he had ever eaten at Mike’s.

“No,” I could hear him say in the background. “But it sure smells good every time I drive by!”

We arrived in Seattle on Wednesday just in time for lunch. After a couple of false starts—I had copied directions from the airport, not the car rental agency, which was located off-site—we got on the right freeway and headed north. We drove west of downtown Seattle and through various neighborhoods until we finally saw signs for Ballard.

“Too far!” Tim yelled, as I zoomed past NW Ballard Way. “Turn right here!”

We were suddenly in the middle of a seedy industrial area that looked like something out of “On the Waterfront.”

“There are no restaurants here,” I exclaimed. “Damn you, Guy Fieri!”

But just as we were about to give up, we spotted two very satisfied-looking men emerging from a diner.

“There it is!” we both yelled in unison as I swung over to the curb and parked.

Built in 1922, the exterior of the restaurant still has vestiges of an art deco facade that must have been elegant at one time. The inside, however, is pure diner, with raised booths, a pool table and full-on bar. It was small and dark and looked like it hadn’t been painted in forty years—in other words, it had lots of character.

Tim eyeballed the menu and selected the chili cheese dog he had seen on TV. I, on the other hand, haven’t eaten a hot dog since reading Upton Sinclair's “The Jungle” in sixth grade and so was pretty much out of luck. There was a handwritten note tacked above the bar promising grilled chicken sandwiches. But the young waitress said they had run out of chicken earlier in the week, so I just ordered french fries.

The chili cheese dog was so massive—and messy!—that Tim happily ate it with a fork and knife, while I looked the other way. A group of obvious tourists came in and scanned the room for seats.

“Looks like someone else watches the Food Network,” I whispered to Tim.

The story doesn’t end here, of course. From Ballard we went to my sister’s home and had pork roast for dinner. This was followed by turkey and lots of other food on Thanksgiving. The bird wasn’t the only thing stuffed by the end of the day!

As if that wasn’t enough, we decided to join the post-holiday shopping crowd and so drove into downtown Seattle, Friday morning. Pike Place Market was even more festive than usual. Still, we resisted all urges to eat. That is, until Tim spied a small sign across the street: “Taxi Hot Dogs.” He looked at his watch (11:30AM), decided it was time for lunch and headed toward a small hot dog joint a few doors north of the original Starbuck’s.

“One regular hot dog,” he ordered and was once again in his glory.

We both vowed we’d eat nothing but salad when we returned to L.A. We’ve been home now for 24 hours. It still hasn’t happened . . .

Black Friday

Long gone are the days when I’d casually drop major bucks at the November Nordstrom sale. In fact, my reign as a super-shopper ended when I stopped working with the public. No longer compelled to wow others with a new outfit everyday, I now buy clothes primarily through catalogs and during occasional forays into Ann Taylor Loft.

The urge to shop the day after Thanksgiving remains primally strong, however, and so it was no surprise that I found myself casually suggesting to Tim—like a junkie falling back into a bad habit!—that it “might be fun” to go to the Camarillo outlet stores the day after Thanksgiving. Not understanding the need to shop just for the sake of shopping, Tim asked what I was going to buy. "Uh, underwear," I said—a concept he could understand. His interest was further piqued when we saw shoppers (mostly women) already lined up outside the Camarillo stores on the 11PM news. Although most malls weren’t opening until 5AM the next day, the outlets opened at midnight Thanksgiving night. Tim was now completely on board.

Still, it was a shock when he whispered in my ear Friday morning that it was time to head to Camarillo. Realizing it was still dark, I mumbled, “What time is it?” “5:30AM,” he answered wide awake. “Ugh! Let’s sleep a little longer,” I insisted. But the urge overpowered me as I sent Tim out for sustenance. Armed with coffee (him) and a blueberry muffin (me), we left the house at 6:30AM and headed 35 miles north to Ventura county. I didn’t even blink when we passed a bank thermometer claiming that it was only 40 degrees outside.

Dubbed “Black Friday” by the media, the day after Thanksgiving is—along with the days directly before and after Christmas—one of the busiest shopping days of the year. No wonder then that the parking lot was already full by the time we arrived in Camarillo. Following all the other latecomers to a lot across the street, we parked behind the Edwards moviehouse, completely ignoring a huge sign that screamed “THEATER PARKING ONLY!!” We then waded back to the outlets and made a beeline straight to Ann Taylor Loft, my favorite of all the stores. Tim read the newspaper outside (along with all the other husbands) while I went in to shop.

Over the years I’ve developed several shopping rules that are especially imperative on a hectic day like Black Friday. Rule #1: what you wear to shop is almost as important as how much money you have to spend. Always wear pants with an elastic waistband (for easy off and on) and comfortable slip-on shoes. Rule #2: if you find a pair of pants or a skirt that fits, buy it in every color available as you never know when you’ll find another well-fitting pair of pants (or skirt) again. And Rule #3: unless it’s something you absolutely must have, never stand on a long cashier line for just one item. Life is too short; plus you don’t want to alienate any husbands or friends you may have conned into shopping with you.

Back in my svelte days when I was a size 8, I used to find everything I wanted on the rack. But now that I’m the same size as every other healthy woman in her 50s, things sell out more quickly. The pickin’s were disappointingly slim this time for women of a certain size. Both Ann Taylor and Jones of New York, my other Camarillo favorite, were a bust.

Tim and I had fun anyway, watching other shoppers and steering clear of several stores that had long lines to even get in. Channel 7 news was there in full force (three news vans!), but we managed to steer clear of them, too. To escape the crowds, we ducked into various food shops, like Le Gourmet Chef and Harry & David’s, and snacked on their samples (hence the need for a larger dress size!). Our haul for the day included peppermint bark (to give as Christmas gifts), key lime pie mix, maple sugar (yum!), a silk shirt from Chico’s, and, of course, several boxes of Jockey underwear.

After three hours I asked Tim if he wanted to go over to the Edwards and catch a movie. He opted to go home instead. We were back in bed by 11:30AM.

11/25/06