Two arguments in favor of the whole bird -- as opposed to our estimable colleague, the Prop of coffegrounds' chi-chi boneless bird, "de-boned from the inside so that carving oneself huge slices was as easy as pie," which made our mouth water, but where's the carcass? -- both illustrated above: 1) the wishbone itself, together with 2) an hours-long-in-the-making culinary joy, turkey stew from homemade post-Thanksgiving stock and fixin's.
We skimmed the fat from the broth after overnight chilling and spooned it into the Griswold pan with some flour and then a bit of the broth and whisked it up to make a perfect roux -- merci, mes amis de la Belle France. Then added that to the pot of broth and tossed in all things bright and beautiful left over from yesterday's repast, including the turkey meat that fell off the bones when we cooked 'em up for the broth, those candied carrot sticks we forgot to serve during dinner yesterday, a few chopped-up creamed onions and scalloped potatoes with fennel and peas. As we said yesterday, did we forget anything?
In answer to our own question -- and in friendly defiance to those who would promulgate a boneless Thanksgiving, here's the carcass.
Frightening yet beautiful in a Georgia O'Keefe sense. Bleached (boiled in this case) bones as a metaphor for the cycle of life and death and everything in between.
Day after Thanksgiving? Spending hours tending a turkey stew over a hot stove? No way. Tryptophan naps all around.