Chris "Fry Daddy" Weaver

A Saturday afternoon, home from vacation, college football...the box in our garage was just begging to be opened. Chris purchased a turkey fryer 3 years ago and has been storing it for a day just like this. Upon unwrapping and beginning assembly, he realized that several screws were missing, from the fryer, that is. So after calling multiple grocery stores to find a frozen turkey (under 14lbs, in September), buying replacement screws for the fryer, making 2 trips for peanut oil and more peanut oil, and then thawing the bird, it looked like this was actually going to happen.

The dogs were secured in the backyard, (as secured as Ruckus and Mayhem can be), and the fryer was unleashed in the driveway. Cajun seasoning was injected into several strategic sites on the bird. Our mouths watered and our hands smelled foul. Ha! Out in the driveway, we watched the temperature of the oil slowly climb to 350 degrees. A few times we actually thought the thermometer was broken but it finally was hot enough. Chris donned classic attire for the fry: long sleeve tee with a dry-wall company insignia on it, backwards mesh camouflage hat, hiking boots, and some work gloves.The bird was lowered into the peanut oil and the timer was set. Three minutes per pound plus an additional 5 minutes to kick out any remaining salmonella spores. Chris sat back and supervised the pot as the aroma of a fresh fry drifted through the neighborhood. The dogs caught wind and were promptly on the scene. Our little glutton's mouth started to water and she left a small puddle on the cement where her face was pressed.

Somehow in the span of 35 minutes, while the bird sat in the pot, the gloves were lost. We were unable to locate them so there was a quick wardrobe change to these fashionable, yet functional pot holders. The bird was crispy coming out and some of the meat had completely peeled away from the bone, exposing the skinny legs of this once plump bird.

We set the bird on the platter and Chris basked in the glory of his first fry. We weren't really sure if it would be fully cooked or overcooked. Chris carved a few pieces and they were delicious. I wouldn't recommend eating the skin though. I made the mistake of tasting a piece and felt instant remorse. The fat and sodium content seemed to be more than I should consume in a day, let alone a single bite. One thing that he may need to research and improve upon is his marinade injection technique. There were several areas that were marbled from the cajun spices. I'm not sure if this is normal, but I'm guessing it's not.
The carving went well. Chris only cut one finger. A band-aid was issued, sandwiches were made, and bird dogs were begging. Overall, I'd call it a success.
Gloves and shirt were lost/discarded in preparation for the feast. Fry Daddy was a little hot after manning a smoking pot on an 80 degree September night.