Final Turkey Vengeance

Thanksgiving is the only day of the year that I make turkey. Truth be told, even though I make roast turkey amazingly well (or so The Fiance says), I don't really like it all that much. So I only put myself through my insane three-day turkey making process annually. Never more (cause I like me) and never less (cause The Fiance would cry).

So I make the darn bird. Fine and dandy. But what to do with the leftovers?

I've had a bad habit of removing all the meat off the carcass and freezing it separately from the bones with the future intent of... using it somehow. And of course the future never comes.

So this year, buoyed by the existence of our wondrous dishwasher (oh dishwasher how I love thee!), I've decided to pre-empt myself.

Or something.

I woke up this morning and dumped the carcass along with the roasted onions and a couple of bay leaves into the biggest pot in the house. Then I carelessly added too much water.

And effectively chained myself to the kitchen for the rest of the day.

I boiled, I skimmed the goo, I stirred. Then I eyed the pot balefully.

To tell some more truth, making turkey stock, especially when there's more water than necessary, is a looooong endeavor. A long, tedious endeavor.

My theory is that it's the way turkey gets back at me for not loving it enough.

Either way, when the stock is done and I strain out the bones and bits... it will be worth it.

Try it, you won't regret it. I promise.

-Vixen