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Fried turkey, anyone?

The instructions were clear, written in English and so simple that any moron could follow them. So why did I have such a hard time frying a turkey for last year’s Thanksgiving dinner, you might ask?

Let’s start this story at the beginning. Last year we drove to see the in-laws in West Virginia. They had decided they wanted to eat a fried turkey, something they had never had. They knew I was a fireman and had to be a good cook so they elected me to do the frying. This was a big mistake. I had never fried a turkey before. Did I mention that the instructions were written all in English?

For you novice turkey fryers out there, this is how you fry a turkey for the in-laws. First you must buy $100 worth of outdoor frying equipment, including a ten-gallon aluminum cooking pot with lid, a metal stand, a gas hose with a regulator, a meat thermometer, five gallons of peanut oil, and one empty canister of propane. Important note: the propane cylinder will be empty when you buy it so you have to get it filled; if you want to fry the turkey, that is. This is where the moron part comes in. Ever try to buy propane on the night before Thanksgiving?

Other than propane, the next thing you’ll need if you are going to fry a turkey is, of course, the turkey. The instructions on the side of the turkey fryer box warned not to fry a turkey larger than 12 pounds so I bought a 10-pound turkey. Ever try to buy a turkey on the night before Thanksgiving? All of them are frozen. So how do you thaw a frozen turkey the night before Thanksgiving if you are in a hotel room? In the bathtub, of course. Sounds moronic, eh?    

On Thanksgiving Day, we took our thawed, 10-pound bathtub turkey, and our $100 worth of frying equipment over to the in-laws’.  When we arrived, the Wife’s dad asked me if we could set up the fryer in the basement, it being 20 degrees outside and snowing. Even though the basement had a working smoke detector and he had just changed the battery when he changed his clock last month, I told him no. All turkey frying must be done outside. He must have thought I was a moron.    

We found a concrete pad well away from the house and cars and set up the fryer. Important safety note: put the thawed turkey into the pot and pour in water until you just cover the turkey. Then remove the turkey and mark where the water line is. Dump out the water, dry the inside of the pot and dry the turkey. Then fill the pot up to the line you marked with peanut oil. This way you don’t overfill the turkey fryer, start a fire and wind up on the six o’clock news. Not that we did that, mind you.

Hang the meat thermometer on the inside of the pot and slowly raise the temperature of the oil to 350 degrees. Your turkey fryer will come with a metal stand; use it to slowly lower the turkey you have patted with spices and injected with marinade into the hot oil. Caution: wear a long-sleeved shirt, leather gloves, and eye protection because the oil will splatter, especially if you didn’t get all of the water off the turkey. Not that this happened to me last year.

Place the lid on the pot and keep an eye on the thermometer so the temperature does not go over 350 degrees. Cook the turkey for 3.5 minutes per pound, then cut off the propane and carefully lift the turkey out of the hot oil. Even though we thawed the turkey out in a hotel bathtub the night before, 35 minutes in hot, 350-degree oil killed anything that could have harmed us.  The in-laws loved the fried turkey, and Thanksgiving dinner went off without a hitch, except for one thing. After a couple of hours, when the peanut oil has cooled, pour it back into the container it came in and dispose of it properly. Don’t try to dispose of it by pouring it down a drain. Not that I tried to do that (only to watch the drain backup into the house); after all, I’m not a moron.

[Rick Ryckeley is employed by the Fayette County Department of Fire and Emergency Services. He can be reached at saferick@bellsouth.net.]