I find turkey to have few redeeming qualities, except, perhaps, the fact that the little fleshy thing hanging off the beak is called a "snood." I've just never felt turkey meat could hold its own on a Thanksgiving plate loaded with more capable sides, which is primarily how I measure bird-worth.
Brined, roasted, then nestled into a sandwich with avocado, bacon, garlicky aioli and cranberry sauce, it becomes another matter entirely. Then again, a shoe sole prepared in a similar manner might make a perfectly acceptable alternative to any lunch meat.
So you can imagine my delight when I learned that many Chronicle readers celebrate Thanksgiving by eating first-of-the-season Dungeness crab.
I'd sent out a call in the paper asking for Bay Area Thanksgiving ideas to help Dave, my boyfriend, and me organize our first West Coast Thanksgiving. I never thought the responses would free me from years of poultry-filled Thanksgiving darkness.
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