We’ve all been there. You miscalculated. Your guests are circling the kitchen like sharks. What do you do?
Option one: carve the turkey before it’s fully rested. Sacrifice a little juiciness for sanity. It’s fine. Option two: tell everyone the turkey is a “slow-roasted experience” and they should have another appetizer. They’ll forgive you when they taste the stuffing.
But really, just set a timer on your phone. Write the start time on your hand. Do whatever it takes. Because a 23-pound stuffed turkey is a commitment, like adopting a pet that you eventually eat.
You’ve got this. It’s going to be glorious. The smell alone will earn you a standing ovation. Now go wrestle that bird into the oven and text me when the stuffing hits 165°F. Coffee’s on me next time.