Yeah, you read it right: it’s time for me to tell you about a culinary catastrophe that will go down in the Hot Mess Household Hall of Shame. I’m talking about the Ass Turkey of 2012.

Why am I writing about this? Because I recently purchased a book called “642 Things to Write About”. It was my intention to blog my way through it on my author website, but as luck would have it the second prompt is something I would never write about on my author website:

Describe the worst Thanksgiving dish you’ve ever had.

I went to bed last night wondering whether I should skip the topic all together or write about it here. When I mentioned this to HMH last night, he said “You’re gonna write about the Ass Turkey, aren’t you…”

See? There’s only one serious candidate when it comes to the worst Thanksgiving dish ever…and that’s the Ass Turkey.

HMH’s grilling and smoking skills are legendary in our family. We were living in California when he bought our first smoker and introduced me to the wonder of smoked meats…particularly turkey. One year he smoked the turkey for our big family dinner and there wasn’t any leftover turkey…that’s how good it was. From that point on, we bought and smoked multiple turkeys to ensure that there would be plenty for leftover sandwiches and tryptophan hangovers.

When I was younger, I used to fantasize about roasting the perfect turkey for my husband and children. Kind of like a Norman Rockwell painting but with less gray hair and suspenders. One bite of HMH’s smoked turkey and those dreams went willingly flying out the window. Screw that! HMH can do the turkey every year…I’ll spend my time on the side dishes. And that’s exactly how we’ve spent every delectable Thanksgiving since. Except last year.

The problem with HMH’s cooking skills is that he thinks it’s fun to experiment – whereas I’m more a creature of habit who lives by the motto “don’t fuck with perfection”. There’s just no reasoning with HMH, though, so last year he decided to use a marinade injection on our turkey.

Other than the pickle flavored potato chip he tricked me into eating once, it’s quite possibly the worst thing I’ve ever tasted in my life. Even now…if I close my eyes I can still hear the screaming. Why, God! Why!!!!

How can I adequately describe it? Think of the turkey they served in the cafeteria at your elementary school. Now put it in a dirty sock and throw in the dryer for an hour. Then take it over to the dog dish and use it to mop up the kibble encrusted drool from the side of the bowl. Now fart on it.

Ass turkey.

It was so bad that I couldn’t even eat the portion that was on my plate, let alone have seconds. The dogs got most of the turkey last year. I posted this picture on Facebook later that night…with the caption “Guilty of crimes against Thanksgiving!”

At least my festively fabulous cornbread acorns were a hit…

I don’t know who that Mr. Stubbs guy is but he needs to stop hurting turkies. Bunghole.

Nordic Ware Platinum Acorn Cakelet Pan