This Turkey Immersion Program Could Save Your Thanksgiving. But the Turkeytinis Are Not Optional!
My good friend Dunk was seated at the bar, with Ari and Slides gathered ‘round. There were four martini glasses assembled in front of them.
“Come on, Rusty, you’re holding up the first toast!” she said. “I had the bartender make us four of my world-famous Dunkalicious turkeytinis!”
“Dunk was just starting to explain the history of the turkeytini and how it fits into her pre-Thanksgiving turkey immersion program,” my philosophical friend Aristotle added. “Did you know she’s gotten past her lifelong aversion to turkey with a two-week immersion program she invented in college?”
“I didn’t, actually.”
“It’s truly brilliant,” said Slides, who brings a keen business sense to every conversation. “She ought to patent it.”
“You think so?” Dunk asked.
I moved up to the bar and pulled one of the turkeytinis toward me. “What’s in this? It looks like a martini but the liquor appears to be whiskey.”
“Lemme start at the beginning,” Dunk said.
It turns out that Dunk always hated the taste of turkey meat, as many do. This made Thanksgiving something she looked forward to almost as much as the turkeys that were about to be served up, giblets and all.
During freshman year in college, Dunk’s pre-med roommate was studying allergy shots, where you take small doses of the things that make you break into hives and slowly build an immunity to them. Dunk, in true Dunk fashion, figured why not apply this to her turkey revulsion?
So, each year in the two weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, she eats turkey at every meal.
“This morning,” she recounted, “I had eggs with a big helping of turkey bacon. A turkey jerky snack. Lunch was a turkey and cheese wrap, which I gobbled down. And once we’re done with drinks, I plan to have a nice, juicy turkey burger for dinner.”
“Does this actually work?” I asked. “Do you learn to like the turkey, or simply tolerate it?”
“That’s where the world-famous Dunkalicious turkeytini comes in,” she said with a wink. “It’s made with two ounces of Wild Turkey bourbon and one teaspoon of simple syrup, shaken vigorously over ice, strained, and then served with a stuffed olive in a martini glass.”
“This feels like an unusual flavor profile,” said Ari, studying his turkeytini carefully. “It’s like an old fashioned but with brine instead of bitters.”
“I can’t wait to try mine!” Slides said.
“Let’s go girl!” Dunk said, holding up her glass and toasting loud enough to raise every dead turkey on the East Coast.
“To a turkey of a holiday,
“Requiring us to gobble.
“A foul-tasting meat,
“That makes my stomach wobble!”
“Cheers!” we said in unison, and slammed back our first round of world-famous Dunkalicious turkeytinis.
“Whaddya think?” Dunk asked.
“This may be a bit of an acquired taste,” I said.
“Exactly,” Dunk explained. “That’s the whole idea of my turkey immersion program. The more you eat — or drink, in the case of the Dunkalicious turkeytini — the better it is.”
“Then, we’d better get another round!” Ari said.
“That’s the spirit!” Dunk cheered. “Gobble-gobble!”
So, there we sat, downing turkeytini after turkeytini. They did get better with each round. At one point, Dunk led us in a wobbly, turkeytini-fueled conga line across the barroom, our arms bent like wings as we gobbled out loud like four tipsy turkeys.
After a few dirty looks from other revelers, we headed back to our spot at the bar.
“I don’t think our little dance was fully appreciated,” Ari said, starting to feel the effects of seven turkeytinis. “What shall we … hic … do now?”
“Let’s go back to my place for some more hurkey … er … burkey … er … turkey … immersion,” Dunk said. “I can make us turkey burgers with some fried turkey bologna and a side of turkey-flavored chips.”
“That sounds turk … a … rific!” Slides said.
“And I’ve got plenty of Wild Turkey to make more turkeytinis!” Dunk added.
“What about … hic … dessert?” Ari asked.
“It’ll be in the turkeytinis,” Dunk said. “I took some ice-ball molds that I normally use for whiskey and filled them with butter instead of water. So, we can serve the turkeytinis on our buttered-up rocks.”
“Butterball turkeytinis!” she quick-followed.
“Sign me up!” Slides said.
“Me, too!” Ari added.
“Let’s gobble-gobble go!” I said, as we turkey-stepped out the door and onto the street, wings at our sides and more turkeytinis ahead.