In my capacity as a Spoof reviewer who also writes about cooking, I posed myself the question today - how do you review a piece of food? And isn't a review a writeup about a play or a rock band playing or something like that?
But undaunted I opened the day's post and found a box full of frozen turkeys in it! My initial reaction was one of fear, as I know that turkeys spread ghastly pandemics of biblical proportions that massacre millions of people every week, but then I had a microwave brainwave. I would cook them!
My initial reaction was one of what one can say was one piece of disappointment, as there was not even one instruction on the birds and the web address on the box had been closed down on the grounds of public health and safety,
so being a dedicated food reviewer I Googhelled 'What is turkey for', whereby hence byforthwith forthhenceforwards a kind of instruction manual for mass-murdering most of the people in the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus and for making kebabs out of sparrows appeared.
So I then looked up Delia Smith's 'Cooking Turkeys and Canaries and Most Seasons Both (With Seasoning)', and it seems that I should have received a 'turkey blaster' with the delivery, as verily this doth be a vital appliance in the conduct of roasting said flightless avian apian aeronautically-challenged birds.
I eventually found my turkey blaster underneath a pile of old unread newspapers full of articles I had never read, but had kept in case I ever got insomnia, having checked all the more obvious places such as my bookshelf with its most read stories and an entire entertainment section full of hundreds of articles I use now and then to light my microwave oven with, as why else do they exist?
There were no instructions on how to use the turkey blaster, though, so I had to guess that you filled it with a mixture of paraffin, kerosine and nuclear waste, and then pointed the blaster at the turkey and fired and this I then did. But now I was at a loss as to what to whit to woo to do, hoo, hoo, as you could have knocked me down with a potato hammer if the blaster hadn't warmed up the turkey and it was very much alive!
And was looking very light and fluffy but not very lightly fried and stuffied, and now I used the blaster on the other turkeys in the hope that they would turn into Christmas roasts, but they also become light and fluffy and soon the house was packed with these noisy animals.
The next option was to was to spray them all with water and then viciously cook them using my third ex-wife's hair dryer, setting it to 'Ultra Maximum Like Wow Heat That Could Fry An Egg At Six Hundred Paces' level, but all that happened was that it dried out the turkeys' wet feathers and they were even more light and fluffy than ever.
Resolving to have one last go at this Herculean task, for Hercules Matthews runs the Bernard Matthews Chemical Research Laboratory in Norfolk, I built a hangman's noose and executed one of the turkeys for treasonable acts against the state, but the bird flew upwards and escaped into the kitchen.
Then I lined the turkeys up and gave them all blindfolds and a last wish each, though one of them asking for a weekend with Britney Spears and a kilo of uncut cocaine was a little bit impractible for me to bestow on that feathered animal, and after all the cigarettes had been smoked and the brandies drunk I then formed a one-man firing squad and fired at them one by one in a bloodthirsty massacre of gruesome proportions. But missed them all due to them all shouting 'duck!' ever time I fired, though I managed to wing the duck as it flew back out into my garden.
Delia's website had said that turkeys were perfect for filling up other websites when they run out of ideas, but didn't say how to go from old turkeys to fresh new ideas so, as I was currently also reviewing a bag of organic lemons for 'The Literary Fruit and Vegetable and Satire Review', I used this bag to chase the birds round the house, taking wild swings at them with it trying to decapitate them or at least to break the lemons' skins open against them to save me doing it later.
And although the lemons didn't do the job for me all the near misses had sprayed the turkeys with lemon juice and now they were a golden yellow colour and light and fluffy again, and they were resolutely identical to what Delia Smith's canaries look like on the exterior, but intrinsically were resolutely identically identical to how they had started at the beginning of the start.
I can only give the turkeys no stars at all due to their lack of humour and grammar and any actual reason to exist, though any man in the street can fill up a website with turkeys. The bag of lemons review will be submitted once the turkeys have flown south for the winter, and if they don't want to do that then Mrs. Anglepoise next door's savage and merciless Dobermann hamster will soon persuade them to get going rapidly, forthwith and eftsoons.