Mom got a turkey for us at the market while we were in France. But then Eberhard told her she should take the plastic off, and cook it right away or we’d get sick. So she took the plastic off, and let it sit in the refrigerator with a paper towel on top. She then spoke to the people at the market and some other Germans, and none of them agreed with Eberhard, so she ignored his advice.
When we got back, I brined the bird in sugar and salt for six hours. Then I took it out and air-dried it on a cooling rack, on top of a baking pan. Mom doesn’t have a V-rack, so I had to jerry-rig one with a piece of metal we found in the garage.
We couldn’t find cooking twine to truss the bird and dental floss seemed like a bad idea, but then mom found some yarn that Eberhard uses in the garden, and that worked just fine.
I filled the main cavity with onions, carrots, and butter – and put half a lemon and some rosemary sprigs in the neck cavity. I smothered it in Irish butter and roasted it following the James Beard method, where you cook it on high heat and flip it three times.
I took a walk up the street afterwards in my slippers with a glass of sparkling wine, taking in the last scents of this quiet, old town.