Last weekend, I cooked turkey for the first time in a long time.
I was making a soup for some friends who just had a baby, and as the mother is breastfeeding, I wanted to throw in enough protein and heartiness to give them a real, sustaining meal. That, and with Thanksgiving so close, I thought it would be seasonally appropriate.
All I had to do was brown some ground turkey, and it really wasn’t so bad until I looked down at the mash of pinkish slop that was in my pan. The look and smell of it, while striking a somewhat primal chord, was pretty much repulsive.