Apologies for the lack of recent posts; things have been busy, busy, busy! I hope that I'll have a bit more time to cook (and to blog about it) once the winter break arrives, but right now it's time for my annual plug for Farm Sanctuary. As the air gets cooler, the days get shorter, and the holidays approach, lots of people start thinking about turkeys. And we are no exception: we love them! With this year's round of festive occasions - and meals - practically on our doorstep, it's disturbing to think about all the animals who suffer so needlessly to fulfill people's skewed notions of what constitutes a "celebration." Every autumn, we gird our loins for the inevitable onslaught of moronic advertising, masturbatory foodie rhetoric, and ham-handed - you should excuse the expression - "jokes" about tofurky, People Eating Tasty Animals, etc. (To say nothing of the whole "But turkeys are stupid" rationale: #1. Wild turkeys are not stupid! They have mad skills appropriate for turkeys; the fact that these aren't necessarily mad skills according to human standards is irrelevant. #2. If intelligence is the criteria for who gets eaten in our society, there should be a lot more cannibalism. Just sayin'.)
Anyway. Several years ago, a post by Susan over at Fatfree Vegan Kitchen, inspired me to do something more positive than snapping off the television and muttering darkly to myself: participating in Farm Sanctuary's Adopt-A-Turkey Project! To quote their web-site: "Since 1986, this program has encouraged people to save a turkey at Thanksgiving through sponsorships that help us rescue animals and provide care for them at our sanctuaries, as well as educate and advocate for turkeys, and other farm animals, everywhere." This year, we're sponsoring Elizabeth, the avian namesake of my historical heroine, and for a mere $30 (probably about the same price as one of those wretched, pathetic carcasses filling the freezers of the local grocery stores this week), you can sponsor one of her friends, or even adopt a whole flock for $210. So go ahead, adopt one of these fine specimens of the genus Meleagris gallopavo; you know you've always wanted to!