If you were to ask me what perks I get for working at my job, I would be able to answer that sentence in two words: free turkey. That’s right, every year around Thanksgiving, all the employees at my workplace get a free turkey. I have no idea how this tradition got started.
I usually take this turkey to my family for Thanksgiving, where we cook eat, eat it, and have turkey sandwiches for the next couple days afterward. This year, though, was a little different. For some reason and through no fault of my own, I had an unexpected attack of common sense where I realized I didn’t have to drive thirteen some-odd hours back to Michigan if I didn’t have to. This resulted in the purchase of one plane ticket, which meant that for the first time in a while, I had to pay attention to what I packed when I came home. I could have still probably gotten the turkey on board in my luggage, but this would have meant hauling with me around the airports, hoping that the ice wouldn’t get on my pajamas. There was also the very real possibility that it might attract the attention of the TSA, and then I would have to explain why I was trying to get a turkey on board a flight to Michigan, and in the process of doing so find myself shipped off to Guantanamo Bay for questioning and reeducation.
This is why I didn’t protest much when my Dad called the day before Thanksgiving and said he had already gotten a turkey that was thawing as we spoke. Still, it left me with a problem—what does one do with a frozen turkey? Cooking the bird was an option, but it would have required a lot of time and effort that would result in leftover turkey sandwiches for the next year. I could also have kept it frozen until Christmas, and simply tried to work around the turkey as it lay in my freezer, edging out the frozen veggies. That was just too inconvenient.
Then I heard about the smokehouse. Several co-workers go hunting, and quite a few took their deer to the smoke house, which is also a butcher and all-around meat processor. For about $30, these guys would turn your deer into steaks, hamburgers, jerky, smoked sausage and pretty much anything you can think of having to do with meat. That was when I started thinking of what smoked turkey would taste like, and about five seconds after that I was on the phone with the Poleshek Meat Locker.
Poleshek’s is located in Protivin, which is another very small town like Spillville. According to the Wikipedia article, 317 people live there. Judging from my drive through Protivin to get to the meat locker, this is about enough for one main street and about two side roads on each side. I have to be honest, I’m not sure what people in these towns do with themselves. I find Cresco a bit stifling on the weekends, and it has 5,000 people. So a town that has only 300 people kind of blows my mind. The only towns I’ve seen crazier than that was when my family vacationed out west. Sometimes, as we were driving through the desert, we would see a gas station and party store stuck out in the middle of nowhere, as though it had been dropped there by a child. Next to it there would be a small house. If the town was considered big, it might have a dirt side road that extended maybe 100 yards, with two sparse houses built on either side of the road. The population couldn’t have been double digits, and as we drove on I found myself wondering what these people DID out there. It didn’t seem like they were farmers, and even if they were I wondered how I would react to having to face the same two families every single day as long as I was in that town. I come from a small town myself, and one of the driving forces in me wanting to be in a city was so that there would be a lot more people to meet, and just as importantly I could get away from people when I didn’t get along with them. People in Protivin don’t seem to have that problem, though, which is probably just as well.
The main point here is that Poleshek’s is located on Main Street, and as soon as I walked in I could not for the life of me understand why the place is not packed each and every day. Admittedly, the décor isn’t great—think warehouse meets mobile home meets temporary office kind of atmosphere—but up front they do have at least six walk-in coolers and one butcher display counter, which contain all the items they have for sale. I can’t list everything, but what I can tell you is that their selection would make several upscale New York delis, not to mention countless supermarket chains, green with envy. I wish the store wasn’t a good twenty minutes away, because I think it would be an excellent place to pick up steaks. As it was, after I deposited my turkey with the owners, I bought some smoked cheddar and halapeno jack cheese, and sampled a couple of the meats they had out for tasting.
The first, some venison snack meat, was absolutely wonderful. The second meat was head cheese. For those of you unaware of what head cheese is, it is essentially a jelly-like substance that holds in place meat from the head of a cow or pig. This usually, and I stress usually, doesn’t include the brain, eyes or ears, although I’d heard that brains were common. Regardless, I’d heard things about head cheese, and that as a meat it was in the same category as beef tongue and tripe. Still, I was feeling adventurous, and when would I get another chance to try out some head cheese?
So I tried it. I would like to say that I am glad I tried it, but I sincerely think that anyone who eats head cheese any time more than once is clinically insane. This is NOT a good-tasting meat. If you take the worst tasting components of dill pickle juice, vinegar and onions, you have a pretty good idea of how head cheese tastes. I sincerely think this meat should be donated to the Catholic church and doled out as penance. I think if Bernie Madoff is truly sorry for his crimes, then he should eat a slice of head cheese for every meal, although I think that might be considered cruel and unusual punishment, if not a violation of the Geneva Convention. If you happen to like head cheese, I would urge you to get to the nearest psychiatrist as soon as possible. If you actually like the flavor of head cheese, there might be other delusions from which you are suffering.
Still, I was very impressed with Poleshek’s. I’ll be getting the turkey back this weekend, and I’ll let people know how it tastes. If you’re ever in Protivin, come on by. I’m sure they’d love to have you as a customer.
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