With the Norman Rockwell picture of Mom placing a golden bird on the Thanksgiving table in mind, is your turkey carved as a big production in front of the waiting, starving masses or does it come out to the table in pieces already?
I’ve never been to any sort of meal where I sat and watched the head of the table carve and serve. My grandfather used to slice up the turkey before anyone was called to the table. As did my dad when Thanksgiving moved to my parents’ house, and same at my inlaws’ house. Today, someone (not yet named) will cut up our turkey and load the pieces on a platter before we sit down at the table.
My husband carves it in the kitchen, and no one else but the two of us - or anyone who dares stray into our tiny kitchen during that time period - sees the done and whole turkey. As small as the kitchen is, the dinner table is even more cramped with the place settings and people stuffed around it.
Plus then he gets to snack while carving, as the carver’s prerogative.
Our table is too small for carving the turkey, with all of the other stuff on it. But our dining area and kitchen are in the same open area, so everyone gets to see the turkey come out and be carved if they so desire.
I usually announce, “Anyone want to check out the bird before I mangle it beyond recognition?” No one ever does, they just want me to hurry so we can eat. Slicing n’ dicing in the kitchen and sending it out on platters (divided into white and dark meat) is so much more efficient.
I don’t have a dining room, I have a kitchen with a tiny work area and an enormous eating area, so everyone gets to see the turkey carved, on the counter in the tiny work area, since the table is already covered with stuff.
And hey, we’re family, so it’s okay if they see when I get frustrated with my one crappy old carving knife (I keep meaning to replace that thing!) and start tearing it apart with my hands. They saw me wash my hands, too.
I don’t like people watching me whack away at the thing. This was the first time we had a Thanksgiving at our house, which is small enough that when the turkey was done- I made an announcement and anybody who wanted to come and drool could come and drool. I then privately hacked it up.
I do seriously enjoy the aesthetic value of a perfectly roasted turkey, but my family also cuts it before hand.
When I was a child, my family would always go to my paternal grandparents for Thanksgiving. Here I recall the Thanksgiving spread being quite traditional, a large presentation in the middle of the table. But when my paternal grandmother died and grandpa decided to move back to Ohio to be closer to the family, we started attending Thanksgiving at my maternal grandparents’ house, conveniently located down the road from us. There, Thanksgiving meals were served like all other meals, where we would form a sort of buffet-style queue around the kitchen table and range, get our food, and carry it in to the dining room. It doesn’t have the same charm as the tabletop spread, but it certainly gives you a lot more room for your plate.
Yesterday after seeing how my husband wielded the knife, I declared he was now a hacker. It wasn’t pretty, but it was tasty. There’s hardly any left today.
I have many childhood memories of my father standing over the turkey on the dining room table, knife in hand, asking “Now how do I do this?” and my mother saying “Here, let me,” and taking it back into the kitchen.
This year, I had Thanksgiving at my cousin’s house. She and her husband are both professional chefs, and each made a turkey, differently. Both birds were carved in the kitchen. OMFG, there was enough food to feed a few third-world countries!
I do the carving. I demand at least half of the kitchen table (think 4-seater). I need a big-ass carving board, a platter to put the meat on, and something else to put the bones, odd pieces of skin, clumps of fat and whatnot in. (The tail grosses me out and is certainly in.)
Norman Rockwell was brilliant, but nuts as far as a practical Thanksgiving turkey-carving. His Grandpa would have a stroke carving at the table.
