Party Down

It's a rare occasion that the holiday parties for my wife's job and mine fall on the same evening, but tonight is just such an occasion. Thankfully the mother-in-law is going to put Maddie to bed and stay at my house while Valerie and I get out of the house for some revelry, hitting up a party at a hoity-toity house before heading over to a restored, historic theater for my company's slightly more rowdy affair.

As long as Maddie doesn't revolt at our absence, we may be in for one heckuva night.

EDIT: Well then. It doesn't have to be Maddie. Sudden onset of digestive distress from the Mrs. means no parties. But that's okay. I have some pretty good bourbon at home!

Dispatched

Spatchcocked, roasted turkey was a rousing success. But more than the lovely, even cooking and all-over crispy skin, it was the prep that had the biggest impact, I think. I picked up the bird fresh on Tuesday after lunch, already cut by the butcher. So I laid it out flat on a wire rack in a sheet pan and liberally salted both sides before putting it in the fridge. This means that for two days I was essentially curing the turkey, intensifying the flavor and prepping the muscle tissue so that it would lose a little less moisture. I'm a dark meat guy, and the thigh was some of the best non-smoked turkey I've ever tasted.

Oh, and I guess my mashed potatoes were alright, too.