A stuffed deboned chicken, stuffed inside a deboned duck, stuffed inside a (mostly) deboned turkey. While this may be an special-if-unexceptional foodstuff for gluttonous Americans, down here in Thanksgiving-deprived New Zealand it’s truly a thing of rare and unusual wonder. Its concept, its extravagantly unhealthy existence, makes us raise our eyebrows and say “wow” with a mixture of awe and disgust.
The turducken was delicious. It was the best tasting turkey I’ve ever had, with all the duck fat keeping the turkey meat moist and soft, while the stuffing-infused chicken and duck meat was melt-in-the-mouth fatty goodness.
I decided during my lunch break to take a rigger of a local craft beer to the turducken-fest, so I popped down the road to Centre City Wines & Spirits. This bottle store at the northern end of Wellington CBD that has quietly put on a number of taps over the last few years, featuring good local beers.
Thinking to share, but unsure of my fellow guests comfort with flavoursome ales, my first instinct was to grab a bottle of the charming and accessible Emerson’s Pilsner, but at the fridge my hand suddenly veered and grabbed a 1.25ml of ParrotDog DeadCanary instead.
It wasn’t until I was back in the office did I make the connection. Turducken. Dead Canary. Turkey, duck, chicken, canary. Well played, subconscious, well played indeed.
DeadCanary turned out to be a good choice. This English pale ale is quite hoppy, the sharp grassy aroma and lingering bitter-marmalade finish doing well to shift the turducken’s fattiness from the tongue between mouthfuls. It has a lovely mouth-filling sweetness, a full-body smooth malty mouth-feel. DeadCanary might be a bit too full of hop flavours for the style, but for those used to “new world” style pale ales, this hits a nice middle-ground of malty balance and bright hops.
It worked even better with the desert. A guest had brought with them a quark and rhubarb cheesecake; the sweet, fluffy, and tart filling was perfectly complemented by the sweet, tart ale.
Later, after I’d packed up my containers of leftovers and put in my earphones for the sharp uphill 25 minute walk through the reserve to get home, Bring Me The Horizon’s “It Was Written In Blood” came on.
As the adrenaline of the exercise and propelling slightly-gothic metalcore of that viciously fun song sped me up the hill, I began to smile.
The right combination of food, drink, company – and then exercise, rock music and good old fatty turducken-sweats – are what you need to say that a day has been a very good day.
 Did you eat a turducken today? Not only did I eat a turducken today, so did my cat. Because in my excitement to get home and get out to the dinner party I forgot to buy some needed wet cat food. So, when I returned home a few hours later, a container of leftover turducken in hand, some of that was chopped and fed to my spoiled pet. He inhaled it in about 3.7 seconds. So, my cat’s dinner was probably more extravagant than yours.↩
 Disclaimer: I really don’t know enough to know what is or isn’t the “English pale ale” style; but I do suspect it would have less of a hop profile than DeadCanary wafts at you.↩
 Oh, is that too much information? Get over it.↩