This past weekend was our Thanksgiving family re-do. Because Scott went to Ohio for the holiday we missed our family dinner. I spent the afternoon on Sunday in the kitchen, chopping, prepping and cooking another full Thanksgiving dinner with one exception. This time Robby put dibs on cooking the turkey.
Enticed by cooking videos, Robby has been exploring his culinary skills. He asked to spatchcock the turkey before rubbing it with his curated spice blend. Happy to let somebody else take the lead with the protein, I let him take the lead.
While I spent the afternoon working in the kitchen, Robby spent his time fretting over his bird. By the time the turkey was ready to go into the oven, it had already been spatchcocked, buttered, spiced, flipped and repeated. The final step, an olive oil drizzle, was all that was standing between us and roasted turkey perfection.
Almost as soon as the oil hit the turkey I smelled that something was off. It took me about 5 seconds to identify and process the mistake that had occurred. When we cleaned the classroom on Friday I reclaimed many of my household supplies, among them my olive oil. I didn't realize that it wasn't my olive oil anymore. It was Timmy's science oil, a mixture of olive oil and rubbing alcohol.
Robby's prized buttered and herbed turkey was immediately taken to the sink where I furiously rinsed away the science oil that was coating half of our bird. While I'm confident that we removed the oil, I also removed all of the butter and spices. Our beautiful turkey looked like a wrinkled, waterlogged mess by the time it was pushed into the oven.
Despite the mishap, we thoroughly enjoyed our half turkey Thanksgiving dinner. And I learned to always smell the oil!
