During the holidays, Dee Briggs had an idea. “I’m going to go to the grocery store and get a turkey and take it to Extra Billy’s (a local barbecue restaurant). They’ll smoke it. You want me to get you one?”
I was out of town when he called and quickly said, “Absolutely.” It sounded like a great idea. “I’m in.”
On Christmas Eve, Dee surprised us with a car-full of charred birds, his interior smelling like Extra Billy’s had smoked the Audi as well.
“I have two of these smoked turkeys in the trunk and they smell great,” he said. When he opened the trunk, it smelled as smoky good as anything I have ever smelled.
Over the next few days, our family carved and ate that amazing turkey. Extra Billy’s did a wonderful smoke job on that gobbler. The day after Christmas we were in an edit and Dee said, “I’m going to boil the carcass down and make soup.”
I said that seemed like a great idea, so I went home that night, carved the meat we wanted for sandwiches off the bones, and dropped the big bird corpse into a pot of boiling water with a little garlic and pepper.
Here’s where things got interesting. Extra Billy’s smoked the chirp out of that turkey and when the steam started rising, the smell of smoke rose in a beautiful aroma that made us all hungry. Then the aroma turned into sort of a smoked cloud. My son noticed it first.
“Dad, that turkey is starting to smell a little strong.”
“Yeah, it’s going to make some amazing soup,” I said, poking at the tender meat falling off the bones into the boiling water.
“Chernobyl,” he said.
A few minutes later, my wife chimed in, “Wow, that is one powerful smoky smell you got going over there.”
“Uh huh,” I said, my eyes now burning a little from the astounding amount of smoked steam rising into the air of the kitchen.
My daughter yelled from upstairs, “What the heck is that smell? Is the house on fire?”
“No,” said my wife, “You dad has changed his name to Extra Terry.”
“My god, that is strong,” said my son as he left. My wife and daughter followed.
I was alone with the smoked carcass that was filling the house with a pungent scent, not unlike the one inside Extra Billy’s smokehouse itself – a smokehouse filled to the rafters with burnt wood and sweet meat. How could a twelve-pound bird’s remains release such a strong smell?
The smoke detector made a sound, like surrender. I went to check and saw four neighborhood dogs standing in my front yard, snouts raised and huffing the air like they’d caught the scent of Bigfoot on the grill. I looked in the mirror and my eyes were redder than if I’d smoked a doobie the size of a Louisville Slugger.
I opened the doors to ventilate the house. More dogs arrived, and several cats. Joe, across the street, was looking around in the street, craning his neck as dogs milled about. Rudy, our family dog, who had been walking around on his hind legs, trying to get a glimpse of what was in the pot, had had enough too and staggered out the back door and stopped, dropped, and rolled. I thought about following him, but I stayed and finished the deed.
The house smelled like a smokehouse for three days. Visitors walked in and said things like, “Had a fire?” “You smoking a rhino?” “Guess we know who got a smoker for Christmas. You really should do it outside, not in your living room.”
Those were the kind comments.
Here’s what I learned:
1. Extra Billy’s did an amazing job. Most birds masquerading under the banner “smoked turkey” are simply fondled by someone with a smoldering stogie. Extra Billy’s smoked that thing to a deep brown in a real smokehouse. If you live in Richmond and want to experience a real, crispy-skinned, sweet-meated, smoked turkey, that’s the place to go.
2. If you want to boil that same bird to make soup, do it outside – way outside – maybe in the next county. The soup is as good as you will ever taste, but the smell of boiling that bird will lure every dog and the fire department from twenty miles downwind to your door.
3. It was all worth it – even though my family’s wardrobe now smells like six feet up Smoky the Bear’s butt – it was still worth it.
4. Don’t try to get rid of the smell with a can of spray air freshner. It smells like someone burned a florist shop.
Tags: Christmas, Food, Holidays, Humor, Personal Stories, Richmond, Smoked Turkey