When the turkey comes out, let it rest. Then carve by removing the legs first—they’re the handlebars of the bird. Slice the breast against the grain, and serve the stuffing in a separate dish (scoop it out, don’t dismantle the turkey like a crime scene). The result? A moist, flavorful bird that doesn’t require CPR.
And if all else fails? Ordering pizza is never a sign of defeat; it’s a sign of advanced wisdom. But you won’t need it. You’ve got a 20-pound stuffed turkey, a lot of patience, and a thermometer that will save your Thanksgiving soul. Now go forth, baste, and conquer. Your ancestors are proud—and probably very, very hungry.
