Wow, there’s some fiery back-and-forth going on in our comments, from readers old and new.  I guess…that’s good?  Since “fiery” segues nicely into this post. 

xpat wondered about the back story to my “fried turkey” comment.  C’mon, xpat, it’s just a method of cook…oh, wait.  There is a backstory.  Indeed, it is an epic tale of dark, forbidden culinary lore. 

I bought an indoor turkey fryer four or five months ago, still haven’t used it.  But a month ago a co-worker, in hushed tones, whispered of some legendary “magic marinade”.  Intrigued…foolish…I inquired more deeply.  Then he uttered Words of Power which burrowed into my mind and lodge there still.  And they squirm.  They ever-slither between my thoughts, reminding of this potent incantation yet to be cast.

How they prey upon me!  Words so simple…and so mad:

3/4ths of a bottle of Italian dressing.

½ cup of black pepper

½ cup of cayenne pepper

1 cup of Creole seasoning

2 tablespoons of garlic powder.

Hmm.  Actually, that last one might be teaspoons…but does precision really matter when dealing with forces like these? 

Okay, point taken.  Anyway, if I made this stuff at work the legal requirements would include:

Material Safety Data Sheets.

A formal Job Hazard Analysis.

A Pre-Job Briefing. 

Heck, lawsuit-averse management might even require HAZWOPER.  That’s an entire week’s worth of training.   

Then don the PPE,

And get to work in our calibrated, inspected fume hood. 

(That is, unless safety experts decided we need a glove box…)

(…or, God help us, a hot cell.)

Point is:  I’m not getting paid to cook these turkeys.  So I’ll just wing this operation without even a formal, written Work Plan. 

(Yes.  There are many reasons why most accidents occur at home.  The dénouement to this story could very well be Lovecraftian.)