I'm sick of turkey. Sick to death of it. I've had it up to here with turkey.
Yes, it's the usual post-Thanksgiving rant about The Leftover Holy Bird. And I've eaten so damn much turkey I'm afraid to move my head fast for fear of breaking into a gobble. I've eaten every turkey recipe in the book, and have even gone through all of Alton Brown's recipes for leftover turkey.
The combined family had, you see, three turkeys for Turkey Day. Two fried, one smoked, and it seems like all three of them ended up coming home with us with some extra that was snuck in by the neighbors while no one was looking. And keep in mind that I am a proessional eater. I don't mind leftovers. In fact, many foods get better with some time to sit and cool, their flavors melding into something greather than the sum of it's parts.
Not turkey. Especially when you have it three meals a day, four days in a row. It's still turkey.
I mean, let's face it, any food has a finite number of ways which it can be prepared. I think we've found them all in the Irrelephant household. I've had Turkey Tartar, a nice toasy TLT (turkey lettuce and tomatoe,) and Turkey Flakes for breakfast. I've had spaghetti and turkeyballs (not nearly as appetizing as it sounds) and turkey in a blanket. Turkey patties, turkey almondaise, and turkey under glass. Turkey gumbo, turkey bread, and turkey pate'. I've eaten more turkey than a whole shipload of starving religious separatists landing on a strange new continent.
I've even been served turkey sashimi; tiny slivers of turkey served on a cupped-palm-sized mound of rice with some wasabi sauce hidden cleverly underneath the meat, all wrapped up with a razor-thin slice of seaweed. I nearly sliced the sushi chef's finger off with his Ginsu knife when he passed it to me.
I'm tired of turkey, folks. I thought I had finally, masterfully, mercifully, eaten all the turkey there was in this house. Came home for lunch today hoping for a nice ham and cheese sandwich and a handful of corn chips, but what to my turkey-glazed eyes did appear?
Deli-sliced turkey, in one of those stay-fresh-until-the-Apocalypse containers.
Kill me before I gobble again.