So there you are, filled to the gunwales with turkey and pie, barely able to move. The troops are no better off, littered about the furniture, bulging, groaning or unconscious. In this state, you couldn’t arm-wrestle an arthritic gnome, let alone defend your keep against the depredations of some oncoming horde of corrupted Eldarkin. What’s an overfed gamer to do? Improvise! Turn the remains of that enormous dinner into solid warfare gold, that’s what!
1. Turkey Terror-zini
Admit it, after the Big Day (and a few sandwiches) there’s no way you’re going to be able to even look at a turkey for another year, let alone eat one. Yes, it was delicious, but that’s over now and it’s time to move on. Sure, you have big plans, but you’re never really going to make that soup stock, and the croquettes are a pipe dream.
The reality is that those golden-brown wings and assorted bits are going to ossify in their plastic wrap, subtly scenting the back of the fridge until you rediscover (and shamefacedly dispose of) them in July. Why not bow to the inevitable and make use of them now? A little deck shellac and some good old fashioned ingenuity, and those inedible hunks of cartilage are now boomerangs!
But that’s not all! Take those bits and scraps, the giblets and the… whatever the heck that part is on the back end, and stuff it all into water balloons. Add some congealed gravy and you’ve got the makings for some savory, sage-enhanced strife, my friend.
2. Waldorf Assault
It’s the sort of dish that Nanna brings, or maybe Uncle Phil, (because it’s all he knows how to make.) It’s there every year, a horror-filled monstrosity that everyone dreads and no one is brave enough to eat. So it just sits there, like a marshmallow encrusted tumor, mocking you with its mysteries and jiggling threateningly every time someone bumps the table.
Well, no more! It’s time to turn that lumpy pile of glop into someone else’s nightmare fuel! Just dig a trench around the perimeter of the yard and dump the offending confection in. What doesn’t kill your enemies outright, will stall them at the gates as they try to puzzle out just what the heck is in that gunk. Mayo? Apples? The remnants of a lifetime’s tattered hopes and crushed dreams? We don’t know and Nanna ain’t tellin’.
3. Mashed Battlements
Every single year, so much leftover mash and the world doesn’t contain enough Tupperware to store it all. But that’s no problem for us, because we’ve got fortifications to build!
Stale rolls and fruitcake as bricks, slathered with mashed potato mortar will give your sanctum the impregnable fortification it deserves. In a pinch, you can roll Uncle Phil out to the new crenellations as an impromptu gun carriage. He’s certainly heavy enough, and between the turkey and the wine, he’ll be snoring blissfully away until Christmas. And hey, if you have enough supplies, why not add that sun porch you’ve been talking about. Treat yourself, because you’re worth it.
4. Fodder Casserole:
Take some otherwise lovely green beans, drown them in gelatinous canned soup and cover them in deep fried walrus whiskers and what have you got? I have no idea, but get it the hell away from me.
This isn’t the 70s and that’s not a side dish, people; that’s a heapin’ helpin’ of cream-of-sadness. Honestly, what did those beans ever do to you?
The best you can do here is build yourself a trebuchet out of turkey bones and frilly toothpicks, then launch that godless conglomeration towards thy foe. If the portents are right and winds are favorable, you’ll win the day. And when you do, get down on your knees and swear an oath to never, ever defile an innocent vegetable like that again, villain.
5. Cranberry Cauldron:
Take every last one of those cans of gummy red goo up to the roof, stack them on some Sterno, then prepare to dump the lot on every
carol singer orc that dares to pass your personal portcullis.
Don’t even kid yourself here. There’s never any pie left over, and if there were, that’s breakfast. If you feel the need to fling the best part of Thanksgiving at your enemies, then you’ve already lost. And if you have lost, you’ll definitely want to have that pie to comfort you in defeat. So put that bad boy right back in the fridge, and reach for the canned cranberry sauce. There’s a good fellow.
There you have it, the best way to rid yourself of fridge-clogging, inedible leftovers, while decimating the invaders at your gate. After all there’s no reason to let a little gluttony get in the way of a good siege. Do it right and you’ll go down in history. Or maybe you’ll just go down. Either way, it’ll be a battle to remember. Now roll off that couch, get out there and make Martha Stewart proud, soldier!
Read more of Lisa’s Fair Game: