Thank you, Barbara! I'm not active on Facebook, so, hopefully, it will help!
In what way did you related this the turkey story? Did something similar happen to you? Or are you thinking more about general cultural misunderstandings?
I like the story not just because of the choice between male and female bird, but that you had to pre-order the bird. You couldn't just walk in and get it. We've gotten so used to just going to the freezer case in the States, actually talking to a true butcher, is a rarity these days. I still do it as do many of my relatives and friends, but we're the exception these days.
Secondarily, we usually stay in Testaccio, so even a better connection to the story. Have a good Thanksgiving.
I agree with that — I was in the U.S. last week and saw freezers full of frozen birds. Who knows how long ago they were prepared?
How do you order a fresh turkey in the states? I’ll be back for Christmas and might want to do it. But I don’t even know where to find a real butcher (i.e., not one in a supermarket). But that’s in Florida so maybe the situation’s different elsewhere.
Locally, in Sonoma County, there are still small butcher shops/lockers that do the work for 4H and the like. That's usually where I get my pigs. Turkey's are generally during the holiday period but can be special ordered. Florida...don't know man.
There are less and less options in CA, but some of the smaller towns that have an agricultural history, usually have a classic butcher shop/slaughter house
This was funny, but I'm used to more "meat" in your posts (heehee pun intended). I know this kind of post is shorter by design. But I when I see ur posts I prepare myself mentally for a lot of info and layers. It's still fun to read it. Not a criticism.. Keep up the good work.
I love writing the deep dives. But it was getting to require too much time. also, since I switched to this every-other-week schedule I think I feel fresher writing the more involved pieces. Plus, I have a lot of fun anecdotes like this one that don't necessarily fit into a broad, worthwhile context. This was just an interesting thing that happened without any deep lesson to take away from it.
It’s so weird what the brain comes up with when we’ve been put on the spot!
It’s not nearly as embarrassing but I’m writing from the train between Venice and Rome. I picked up some food before boarding and the lady at the bar said “Have a nice trip!” And I said, “You, too!”
I’ve been living in Italy for years and this year will be the first time I go out for Thanksgiving somewhere (I’ll be in Venice). Up to now, I’ve either prepared the meal myself, been invited to someone’s house, or have been traveling in the states.
We can relate to your experience. Living in Malaysia for almost 3 years, we learned about the "wet market" and there, you select the animal of your choice, and they fix it right there, right then. No leaving and returning later. There were many choices, some were disturbing to us. But that is life overseas! Love your descriptive writing!
I bet we’ve both seen some strange things in Asian wet markets! People who visit me here in Italy enjoy but are surprised by the untamed atmosphere of Italian markets. I want to tell them that it’s nothing compared to Thailand or Indonesia! I’ve never been to one in Malaysia, but I think I know what you’re referring to.
I learned enough from this story that I might even feel confident ordering a turkey in Italy. Maybe next year.
We did this year’s expat Thanksgiving yesterday, and our Amsterdam friends opted for turkey legs sous vide, since none of us have ovens big enough to fit a whole turkey. Best Thanksgiving dinner ever. I love how living abroad forces you to improvise.
Thank you! It happened a long time ago, but I tell that story often around this time of year.
P.S. It always warms my heart to see old journalism jargon like “lede” or “hed” or “graf” or “stet” or “dek.” All that’s going the way of the dodo, I fear.
My first Italian Thanksgiving they also told me to get a female one. So I ordered two because they were so small (less than 8 Kilos) but they were already ehem... taken care of ;) Well done!
My first Thanksgiving in Rome I ordered a turkey. It came out to about 13 kilo. As my father carried it home for me, he noted “will it fit in the oven?” Oooooh. Just barely without any racks. Learned my lesson.
The following year I ordered a pheasant. Failed to ask it to be cleaned. It was presented to me with all feathers attached. Of course, those feathers are spectacular and have many uses. I decided to forgo the feather and asked my butcher to pluck them all.
But my butcher was incredibly kind despite my multiple foibles. He always spoke to me as though I had impeccable Italian. God bless him.
My 8-kilo bird fit in my oven OK. But a couple of years later I got one that was almost 11 kilos and I had to debone it to get it to fit. I’d never deboned a turkey before — previously it had only been chickens and game hens —and I made a mess of it (I’m better at it now).
I love these differences in culture. We both learned the hard way about the feathers! I’ve never cooked pheasant, though. No surprise that the feathers were beautiful.
Like your butcher, I think Franco, my butcher for years (no longer; I’ve since moved to another part of Rome) was very kind and patient. What I wrote here probably makes it sound like he was teasing me, and he may have been. But it was all in a kind hearted way.
I miss Rome. I have great memories of exploring, struggling to run a household in broken Italian, riding my motorino the wrong way down one way streets being stopped by the carabinieri. I’d talk my way out of this situation by only speaking English, frustrating the heck out of them! Loved the fresh vegetable markets, the wonderful restaurants. A good friend, an American painter, still lives in Rome. Thanks for listening!
I LOVE THIS. I related to it, big time. And I posted it on my FB. Hope it brings in some new subscribers. You deserve it.
Thank you, Barbara! I'm not active on Facebook, so, hopefully, it will help!
In what way did you related this the turkey story? Did something similar happen to you? Or are you thinking more about general cultural misunderstandings?
Sooooooo FUN!!!! Happy Thanksgiving!!!!
I like the story not just because of the choice between male and female bird, but that you had to pre-order the bird. You couldn't just walk in and get it. We've gotten so used to just going to the freezer case in the States, actually talking to a true butcher, is a rarity these days. I still do it as do many of my relatives and friends, but we're the exception these days.
Secondarily, we usually stay in Testaccio, so even a better connection to the story. Have a good Thanksgiving.
I agree with that — I was in the U.S. last week and saw freezers full of frozen birds. Who knows how long ago they were prepared?
How do you order a fresh turkey in the states? I’ll be back for Christmas and might want to do it. But I don’t even know where to find a real butcher (i.e., not one in a supermarket). But that’s in Florida so maybe the situation’s different elsewhere.
Locally, in Sonoma County, there are still small butcher shops/lockers that do the work for 4H and the like. That's usually where I get my pigs. Turkey's are generally during the holiday period but can be special ordered. Florida...don't know man.
“Florida … don’t know man.” — that phrase could be used in so many different contexts!
I’m not surprised you have better options out in California.
There are less and less options in CA, but some of the smaller towns that have an agricultural history, usually have a classic butcher shop/slaughter house
Great tale. Well done!
This was funny, but I'm used to more "meat" in your posts (heehee pun intended). I know this kind of post is shorter by design. But I when I see ur posts I prepare myself mentally for a lot of info and layers. It's still fun to read it. Not a criticism.. Keep up the good work.
Thank you!
I love writing the deep dives. But it was getting to require too much time. also, since I switched to this every-other-week schedule I think I feel fresher writing the more involved pieces. Plus, I have a lot of fun anecdotes like this one that don't necessarily fit into a broad, worthwhile context. This was just an interesting thing that happened without any deep lesson to take away from it.
More "meat" hahah.
I think I would have “chickened” out at that point. Instead, the brilliant “my building has a no turkey policy”.
It’s so weird what the brain comes up with when we’ve been put on the spot!
It’s not nearly as embarrassing but I’m writing from the train between Venice and Rome. I picked up some food before boarding and the lady at the bar said “Have a nice trip!” And I said, “You, too!”
My daughter is in Rome for school and she was so happy to have found a place that serves a Thanksgiving lunch/dinner.
I’ve been living in Italy for years and this year will be the first time I go out for Thanksgiving somewhere (I’ll be in Venice). Up to now, I’ve either prepared the meal myself, been invited to someone’s house, or have been traveling in the states.
I hope your daughter enjoys her meal Thursday!
We can relate to your experience. Living in Malaysia for almost 3 years, we learned about the "wet market" and there, you select the animal of your choice, and they fix it right there, right then. No leaving and returning later. There were many choices, some were disturbing to us. But that is life overseas! Love your descriptive writing!
I bet we’ve both seen some strange things in Asian wet markets! People who visit me here in Italy enjoy but are surprised by the untamed atmosphere of Italian markets. I want to tell them that it’s nothing compared to Thailand or Indonesia! I’ve never been to one in Malaysia, but I think I know what you’re referring to.
Thank you for your support, Steve!
I learned enough from this story that I might even feel confident ordering a turkey in Italy. Maybe next year.
We did this year’s expat Thanksgiving yesterday, and our Amsterdam friends opted for turkey legs sous vide, since none of us have ovens big enough to fit a whole turkey. Best Thanksgiving dinner ever. I love how living abroad forces you to improvise.
I think being motivated by the need to improvise rather than demoralized by it is a key.
This is a great story! I’ve been nervous to search for a whole turkey for this interaction hahaha 😂.
Now you know what to ask for! Learn from my embarrassing errors! But it might be too late for this Thanksgiving. In Rome they need a week or so.
Now I want to try a female turkey- went to fresh years ago, but not that fresh.
I don't even know where to get a fresh turkey in Florida!
I bought a fresh hen at Costco. Publix has fresh, but not sure if they are hens or toms. I steam my turkey in white wine as it makes the best gravy.
I'm going to look for one when I'm back there for Christmas. Thank you!
Great lede, Eric! And hilarious in the best way. Happy Thanksgiving:)
Thank you! It happened a long time ago, but I tell that story often around this time of year.
P.S. It always warms my heart to see old journalism jargon like “lede” or “hed” or “graf” or “stet” or “dek.” All that’s going the way of the dodo, I fear.
Loved this dispatch so much, Eric!
My first Italian Thanksgiving they also told me to get a female one. So I ordered two because they were so small (less than 8 Kilos) but they were already ehem... taken care of ;) Well done!
How interesting! Where is that, if I may ask? Rome? Your profile photo looks like it may have been taken in Naples.
Reminds me to reserve my bird asap! Never heard the the famale v male story. Definitely will ask!
Better call your butcher now, Annie! I think a week is about the minimum!
My first Thanksgiving in Rome I ordered a turkey. It came out to about 13 kilo. As my father carried it home for me, he noted “will it fit in the oven?” Oooooh. Just barely without any racks. Learned my lesson.
The following year I ordered a pheasant. Failed to ask it to be cleaned. It was presented to me with all feathers attached. Of course, those feathers are spectacular and have many uses. I decided to forgo the feather and asked my butcher to pluck them all.
But my butcher was incredibly kind despite my multiple foibles. He always spoke to me as though I had impeccable Italian. God bless him.
Wow, 13 kilos! That’s nearly 30 pounds!
My 8-kilo bird fit in my oven OK. But a couple of years later I got one that was almost 11 kilos and I had to debone it to get it to fit. I’d never deboned a turkey before — previously it had only been chickens and game hens —and I made a mess of it (I’m better at it now).
I love these differences in culture. We both learned the hard way about the feathers! I’ve never cooked pheasant, though. No surprise that the feathers were beautiful.
Like your butcher, I think Franco, my butcher for years (no longer; I’ve since moved to another part of Rome) was very kind and patient. What I wrote here probably makes it sound like he was teasing me, and he may have been. But it was all in a kind hearted way.
Thanks for the fun comment!
I miss Rome. I have great memories of exploring, struggling to run a household in broken Italian, riding my motorino the wrong way down one way streets being stopped by the carabinieri. I’d talk my way out of this situation by only speaking English, frustrating the heck out of them! Loved the fresh vegetable markets, the wonderful restaurants. A good friend, an American painter, still lives in Rome. Thanks for listening!
So many experiences like this are only possible if we leave the confines of where we are most familiar!