but I had a turkey to brine
5) I fucking HATE pickles. If I bite into a pickle in a supposedly pickle-free sandwich, I react exactly as I would if I bit into a cat turd: I spit it out and run to the bathroom and wash my mouth out repeatedly, then scrub my tongue with a toothbrush until it hurts.
Huh, wha?
That is exactly what I was thinking, HB...
HB, are you implying that there's anything remotely similar between brined turkey and pickles? If so, I believe you are mistaken. Maybe some people pickle their turkeys. Me, I just soak mine overnight in a solution of kosher salt, brown sugar, bay leaves, whole peppercorns and allspice berries before roasting as usual the next day.
I officially hate you. ; )
Not even a "real" comment on my blog? I think that's the least you could do, considering.
For the record, I love hedgehogs, and a brined turkey, and while I like a good half-sour pickle cannot abide them in or on anything.
Brined turkeys are not pickled. Also, do not try "dry brining" your turkey. I was seduced into that this year by Martha Stewart and the results were not good. Way too salty despite thorough rinsing before cooking. Pickles are necessary for a good Cuban sandwich and OK on a burger but otherwise should not be between slices of bread. So Betty, do you resemble the hippie or the redneck more? 
FYI, Marindenver, I tagged you. All Betty's fault. : )
Betty, you could have tagged RiverChucky instead of me!!
HB and Dave....Pickling and brining are two very different things. However that gives me an idea, I think I am going to pickle a turkey this week. And Betty, why the fuck don't you like pickles? If I had a sandwich made of only pickles I would be dissappointed if someone offered me bread.
HB, are you implying that there's anything remotely similar between brined turkey and pickles?
No, just being a dick. I love kosher dill pickles, always have, always will. Oddly, I don't much care for cucumbers, however.
As for my turkey dinner -- it was a wonderful cut of HumCo grass-fed tri-tip smoked on my weber with Lazzari's mesquite for 3 and a half hours. Added some baked carrots, mashed taters and beer.
"...weltschmerz..."
that's my new favorite word.
I had to laugh about your fear-of-flying ritual. I don't mind flying at all, but I've flown with a friend who is phobic. She isn't afraid of flying per se, but she has claustrophobia issues and control issues as well. I sat waiting to board with her once. She refused to get on the plane until the very last call. She asked me if I thought the pilot looked too young to have his license and did I think he wore glasses and did he remember to bring them with him.
By the time we took off, I was as nervous as she was. She dug grooves into my arm with her fingers when we took off. I was never so glad to get off a plane in my life.
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