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a turkey in the tub by Diana Serbe I grew up in a lovely home in Newark, New Jersey. My family was of German origin, so we ate things like pork chops or sauerbraten. My mother's kitchen was meat oriented. The whole family spent summers at my grandmother's farm. There were turkeys, chickens, cows and pigs. We lived by gas lamp since there was no electricity at the farm. I helped churn butter and I cranked the handle on the ice cream machine. That was real ice cream made with real cream from the cows on the farm. I learned to milk cows, and every evening we would take the milk in metal 25 gallon containers to the railroad station to be shipped. Farms offer space that houses don't have. There are buckets to soak things, and room in a barn to hang things to dry. What I remember most was the delicious roast turkey that was soaked in brine in a bucket, then hung to dry in the barn. Then it was roasted, and it was delicious. We all loved turkey, including my dog Rex, who preferred living turkeys that he could chase all over the yard. My mother learned to cook brine-soaked turkey and would have it no other way. At Thanksgiving, when we were in our house in Newark, she would soak the turkey in an old wooden bucket. There was no barn to hang the turkey, but my mother insisted that it had to be dry, so she hung the turkey in the bathtub. We made sure Rex was not around, and we always showered when the turkey went in to cook. I've experimented with this and find that it's okay to let the turkey dry in the refrigerator. In those days refrigeration was hard to come by. I never make it any other way, and it is the best turkey you can eat. Brine, brine, brine, that's the key. ABOUT HERMAN: Herman is a retired chemical engineer.
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