A Very Tender Turkey….

I imagine my sister on the other side of the continent writing this same story, if she hasn't already; it is really her story to tell, but I was there, and became part of the tradition, as all people who attended Thanksgiving at my mother's house for every year afterwards heard the phrase and was told the story, so it's kind of my story too.
My sister married a brilliant computer genius who also had an unfailing eye for foibles, animal and human.  a year or so later, my oldest brother married a very flashy, dramatic woman from the South Shore.  She came from first generation Italian immigrants who had wonderful Italian manners and customs, her father gave me a 5 dollar bill every time he saw me, I didn't know until I had lived in Italy that this was a common occurrence, and struck me as being amazing considering how my own family viewed the topic of cash.  [Something you never discussed or admitted to having or were willing to share].  John Biagi had run a restaurant in the North End of Boston for years, well attended by business men who worked more or less off the grid, he was not one of them [it was said] but knew how to keep his mouth shut.  He also knew whatever there was to know about food and hospitality.
My mother had spent some years learning the cuisine of her heritage, French, and was a confident cook, but a terrified hostess and in general suffered terrible anxiety about having people over for anything that didn't have to do with music.
The first Thanksgiving we all piled into her house to celebrate the increase of family fervor, The Biagis brought the turkey.  A very high quality turkey in the days when what you could get in rural NH was a Butterball, unless you happened to run over one.
Thanksgiving in our house always included a point of critical mass when someone took offense burst into tears or threw some kind of horror show, and mum was working very hard to see that it wasn't her, or anyone who reflected on her, so tension was high by the time we sat down to dinner.
"What a Tender Turkey!" my mother commented after a longer than acceptable silence.
"Oh, no, it was the way you cooked it!" returned Mr. Biagi.
"Oh, but really", mum answered "It was nothing I did, it a very Tender Turkey!"
>>silence<<
>>sounds of chewing<<
"Please pass the gravy?"  from someone
"Oh you don't need any gravy, this turkey is so tender!"
My brother in law began to suppress giggles.
People shifted in their chairs.
My mother wished she was still drinking, or perhaps, could just go to her room and read.
"Where did you find such a Tender Turkey?" she asked.
"Oh, I got from a friend in the North End, but really, it's just a turkey, the way you cooked it is what made it so tender…"  Mr Biagi answered.
"Oh, no!" she argued "This turkey is just SO TENDER!"
Well.
This is how family traditions start.  Thanks to my brother in law for embedding it forever
So on Thanksgiving this year, in memory of my long disappeared, never to be recovered family of origin, I am busily working to see that once again, we can claim to have the tenderest turkey ever.
Happy Thanksgiving to all.