Some turkeys are labelled ‘self-basting’. I wondered how a turkey, in a hot oven, could baste itself. So I asked an expert:
I’m a turkey that’s self-basting. What it means I’ve not a clue,
It’s just a rather clever thing that I have learned to do.
It takes a lot of practice: you lay upon your back,
And flap your wings about like mad! Well, I soon learned the knack.
The farmer never told me why I should be so skilled.
“Don’t do it,” croaked my turkey mates. “He’ll only have you killed,
Then sell you for a premium: ‘Self-basting,’ he will claim.”
I just ignored them, turned away and practised just the same.
“It’s so that, when they roast you in a pan of your own juice,
Your wings (what’s left of them) will flap . . . He’s not listening, it’s no use!
. . . And when they flap, those juices will splash all over you.
We don’t know why they pay for this, we just know that they do.”
Well, now, it’s nearly Christmas and my mates have disappeared.
Here comes the farmer – oh, dear me, will it be just as they feared?
Look – he’s got a label: “Self-basting, easy-roast!”
And there’s a look upon his face that seems to say “You’re toast!”
So, when you buy your turkey
I hope you’ll buy ‘self-basting’.
My practice will have been worthwhile
If it’s made me better-tasting.