I got through the night without visions of mutilated snowmen and gingerbreadmen dancing in my head. I had made the Parkerhouse roll dough with the first rising and the sweet potato - parsnip puree the night before, so I could cook them first thing in the morning and have them warm for lunch. I had prepared the smokey hot flavored liquor for the collards the night before also, so the pot was ready for the greens. Before I went to bed I had chopped the cranberry and orange relish and put it in the 'fridge.
When I awoke Thanksgiving morning, I was checking my list - twice. Rolls - check, casserole - check, collards-check, cranberries - check, wine - one, two, three, four . . . Wait there is an extra bottle here, a bottle of white table wine. The it dawned on me, that was the wine that should have gone into the brine for the turkey - but didn't. I totally forgot it. OK, certainly the salt, herbs, and spices would sufficiently "brine" the turkey.
What happens when a turkey is just put in flavored water overnight? Do turkeys swim? Just as I was about to go into full panic mode, I remembered - surely some Baptists brine their turkeys. And, any, God fearing, choir singing, Heaven going Baptist would never put wine in their brine. (That would be worse that my dear Aunt Kat's friend Mary McCorkle, bless her heart, putting dark meat in her chicken salad.) Life would just have to continue since the turkey had been on the spit for a good two hours before I got up.
When the turkey was sliced everyone raved about the taste. The meat was so moist. Even the white meat wasn't dry like it often was. Brining was definitely the way to go. And, if anyone asks, according to the recipe one mixes all the ingredients with the water except the wine, puts the turkey in a bag, adds the solution, then seals bag. Next step - sit back drink the bottle of wine. Sounds good to me.