Bob’s Burgers: My Neighbor, Turkeyo

And I am back from Teslacon 2015! I know, you’d think 16 hours in a van would be plenty of time to write up the first post of the week, but my body had other ideas (like re-watching Star Wars: A New Hope in preparation for the next film in the series). Anyhoo, due to the lack of energy from Thanksgiving this week, this will be a fairly short post.

Speaking of which, Happy Thanksgiving. I hope yours was as fun as mine. This was our first year hosting, so that was an adventure in itself — my own doing because cooking up a full turkey is usually a once a year affair and I had the perfect idea for it.

You can probably see where I’m going here.

So if you hadn’t already figured out from the title of this post, I love Bob’s Burgers. One the many things I love about  it is how the writers tack on the holiday themed episodes without resorting to cliches or detracting from the character of show. This especially rings true with Thanksgiving, where simply making it Bob’s favorite holiday speaks more volumes about the character and where the story is going than any true meaning of the holiday morality episode ever could.

That said, another thing I find fun is how Bob Belcher sort of reminds me of my own dad . They’re both swarthy, snarky, mustachioed men with a love for cooking in some of the craziest ways possible. In fact I’m pretty sure I’ve picked up my weird but delicious food tastes from my dad. Heck they even kind of look like each other.

The evolution of Bob.

They’re also the Kings of Thanksgiving in their own world. Over the years my dad has tried a little of everything to cook up the perfect bird and found really the best way to go is to brine it to add moisture and flavor, and then deep fry it to seal all those delightful juices into it while also crisping up the skin. So it only seemed fitting that I was going to have my dad teach me how to deep fry a turkey.

Using heat-resistant gloves, of course.

Granted he’s so into it at this point, he has not only one, but two electric turkey fryers. Due to the dangerous nature of the things, I would actually recommend investing in or borrowing one for the purpose of this recipe as they allow better control over the process.

There’s a turkey in there somewhere.

So for this brine I decided to go with the very first Thanksgiving special where Bob’s landlord borrows his family for the day and leaves Bob to cook dinner — and then drown his sorrows in absinthe to the point of calling the turkey “Lance”, talking to him, and then hallucinating a scene straight out of My Neighbor Totoro.

Now I know absinthe is expensive, but don’t worry, friends. This anise flavored spirit also has a just as boozy New Orleans alternative at half the price called Herbsaint.

In honor of Linda’s Thanksgiving song I also added cranberry juice, which gave the turkey skin a gorgeous red tone and a sweetness that paired well with the anise and ginger I mixed in.

Pass the cranberry sauce!

I won’t lie. Deep-frying never produces a photogenic turkey. It is worth it, though. The flavors you get will be subtle but tasty, the boldest flavors will be in the skin, the surface breast meat, and the dark meat.

Oh the Turkey looks great!

A pinot noir pairs pretty nicely with this dish, though we actually made some mulled apple cider. Want a tasty cocktail? Put some sugar in the bottom of a glass, add a big splash of Herbsaint, fill the rest with mulled cider and stir.

Kill the Turkey!