Hard luck turducken
 The turducken was one of the greatest successes I have ever experienced, despite a rocky start in which FedEx failed to deliver it overnight from Louisiana and I had to go to their facility in downtown L.A. and wait, literally in a cage, while others berated employees about not receiving Canadian medications in time for Christmas.
The birds comprised a Fowly Trinity of Yuletide Tastiness, though I was surprised to see that the 12-lb. hy-bird was supposed to feed 44 people in servings of 5.5 ounces. I seem to recall that people with stomach staples can only accommodate about five ounces of material in their newly svelte guts, so perhaps a lot of people on the bayou have had that surgery.
 Labels: food, holiday
The turducken cannot hear the turduckener
 For Christmas we are eating a turducken, a Cajun dish in which a duck is shoved into a chicken which is shoved into a turkey. Beaks and bones have been removed (though a beak would have come in handy during the shoving).
In between the discrete fowlic elements is slathered a cornbread stuffing. Eating a turducken is like slicing through three-layered Neopolitan ice cream, except with birds.
Because our friend Eric is joining us, and because Eric actually raises falcons, we were hoping to surprise him by adding his falcon to the mix. The integrity of the meter would be maintained if the resulting dish was a turdalcken, and the configuration would be duck -> falcon -> chicken -> turkey. If we can get it together in time, we might be able to surprise Eric with this new tradition.
"This tastes like -- Oh My God!" he will say. "It's my Charlemagne!"
If we had more time, we might have been able to prepare a turdalckenelope, turdalckenelopiraffe, or even a turdalckenelopiraffephant, but Christmas shouldn't be about complexity.
See also: The Second ComingLabels: food, holiday, poetry
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