Nice Turkeys Finish Last

So they always tell us, and perhaps my pre-consumption experiences bear it out: No one wants to eat you if you actually want to be eaten. No; the key is to be calm, casual, indifferent, perhaps even slightly adverse to the prospect of being dished up with gravy and mashed potatoes.

But I always felt much too passionate about mashed potatoes to be able to pretend I didn't care for them, let them think what they might.

Sometimes I wonder if I am unique in my ardent devotion to potatoes. Other people find them rather dull, and regard them merely as a filler to supplement more exciting dishes. These people just don't get it. They have no appreciation for the complex subtlety of the flavor of really good mashed potatoes: buttery, creamy, substantial, with perhaps just the faintest hint of onion and garlic. Leave the gravy off; it will overpower the glorious delicacy of the flavor. The occasional lump only serves to enhance the overall smooth texture of the dish. Delicious!

Perhaps I ached too intensely to be cooked and eaten; perhaps I tried too hard. Maybe that accounts for the lonely months I spent being shuttled from freezer to freezer, doing my best to bear with the indignity of having frozen pizzas and green beans stacked on top of me, watching carton after carton of ice cream be bought and consumed while I languished, alone.

But I got eaten, didn't I? I did - so in spite of everything you've ever read, the nice turkey got its just potatoes in the end. So take heart, human reader: there is hope for you too.