- It's the form of meat that's closest to vegetable. So often it seems to serve as a kind of meat substitute, replacing beloved beef, chicken, or pork in recipes for chili, burgers, sausages, etc. Anecdotal evidence confirms that the bird itself lacks its own actual flavor, and like tofu, rice, or white bread, serves mainly as a base for items having actual flavor. In terms of sheer quantity after the fourth Thursday of November, it may as well be the staple of one's diet. Indeed, turkey becomes much more appetizing when one pictures two slices of it wrapped around steaming hot slices of pastrami and the sharpest of cheddars with crisp iceberg lettuce, tomato slices, and a dollop of mayo.
- If people really loved it so much, it'd be all over the place. We'd have it every single day. You'd be having it animal-style in your double-double from In-n-out. You'd be ordering it rare from the Black Angus. It'd be done asada-style in your super burrito. I'm not sure what the resource requirements are to farm/ranch/whatever turkey in mass, but science would find a way to do it, IF THE DEMAND WAS THERE.
- It's amazing the lengths people have gone to in recent years to make the bird more interesting to eat. Roasting no longer sufficient, people soak it in various briney concoctions for days before roasting it or plunge it into vats of hot oil at tremendous risk to life and property. All to make eating the damned thing that much more tolerable.
As for this Thanksgiving dinner, it was spent turkey-free with the family over at a cousin's place in the south bay. The cousin's wife had whipped up an odd cider of sorts from the tangerines in the backyard which went well with a shot of Johnny Walker Black.