Today we had the multi-cultural Thanksgiving luncheon at work, which was at the danger of being turkey-less. Turns out our CFO rose to the occasion and paid for the turkey out of his own pocket. Thank you! The overachiever in me made two things, not just one, kabatchki and cranberry pie. And no, I did not bring down the oven while baking the pie, imagine that. There's a story with kabatchki, but it still does not involve any sort of sabotage or destructive activities on my part. You see, the recipe starts out as ratatouille and calls for eggplant and zucchini, among other things. Then it offers variations, one of them a Russian-style stewed veggie dish called kabatchki. The most ironic thing is that zucchini, “kabatchki” in Russian, is the first thing that is eliminated in the modified recipe. So it’s really kabatchki without kabatchki.
(Not our turkey, courtesy of Google Images, but close enough to the real one)
Traditionally we order turkey with some other stuff such as sweet potatoes, etc from Mendy's, so that kosher people like myself will have turkey along with the rest of the population. I somehow became the official turkey cutter of our department, and I am not quite sure how it happened. Because at home SubHub would not let me cut anything that was once alive, saying that killing a poor bird or animal twice is simply inhumane.
Well, I think the first time I became a carver, Mendy's either forgot to carve the turkey or didn't cut it thoroughly enough. Citing my vast experience with plastic cutlery, I volunteered to cut the bird with the plastic knife. I do not recommend. The second year I took it upon myself to bring in the real knife, just in case, and have been doing it ever since. So by default - your knife, you carve - I am the official carver. To my great relief Mendy's have been doing an excellent job, so I am mostly serving.
I am usually profusely thanked for my services and many people are kind enough to ask me whether with all the serving I had a chance to grab some food myself. However, even they probably don't realize the danger, into which I put myself every year, to ensure the semi-proper cutting of the bird. See, I have to take subway to work, and I am always petrified that I will be stopped by a police officer on the day of our luncheon and asked to show the contents of my bag, which would inevitably result in him finding my huge knife. If that ever happened, I most likely wouldn't taste turkey that day or maybe even that year. Once I decided just to keep the knife in my desk drawer and not transport it annually, but then I couldn't decide how I would explain the cold weapon among my work files come spring time, when Thanksgiving is that last thing on people's minds. It did occur to me that this finding might bring unexpected benefits, such as people trying their earnest not to upset me, etc. On the other hand, HR might get involved, and I would rather take my chances with the New York finest. So I took the knife home.
With all the dangers, knives, and carving, the party was a good one, as always. So happy it wasn't fouled up by the economic downfall, etc.
At the end of the day... Again, not really ours, but close enough, courtesy of Google images, for those of you expecting some sort of wreckage in my post...