TURKEY SUCKS: GIVE ME RIBS

Let’s just get this out there: turkey is overrated. I don’t care if it’s done in the oven by your sweet little grandma or smoked for 12 hours by your MAGA, Trump-loving uncle who’s got every Playboy from 1988–2012 stacked in Sterilite totes in his garage. It all tastes the same to me: dry and boring.

Every year there’s someone who swears their turkey is different.

• “You just haven’t had MY turkey, I brine it.”

• “Mine’s injected with butter.”

• “I deep fry mine; it’s so juicy.”

Cool. Still needs three scoops of gravy just to slide down my throat. If your “star of the show” needs that much help to be edible, maybe it shouldn’t be the star.

Back when my grandparents were still around and we did big family Thanksgivings, I was the guy rolling in with BBQ sauce. And not the “official BBQ sauce of white people,” Sweet Baby Ray’s. I’d bring the real stuff. People would roll their eyes at me like I was disrespecting the ancestors because I didn’t want to choke down plain turkey like it was a punishment.

Here’s the punchline: the best turkey I’ve had in recent years was from the frozen section of Walmart. A Banquet meal. Microwave. Under five minutes. That should tell you everything you need to know about how “special” this bird really is.

If this is supposed to be some big meaningful holiday meal, then give me something worth being excited about:

• Ribs

• Brisket

• Ham

• Literally anything that doesn’t need gravy, cranberry sauce, and a prayer to have flavor

Let’s be honest, Thanksgiving is carried by the sides anyway—stuffing, mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, rolls, pie. Nobody’s out here daydreaming in June about turkey.

Keep the holiday. Keep the family. Keep the chaos and the football.

But the turkey?
Hold it.
Get me some ribs.

We’re not pilgrims anymore. We don’t have to keep pretending this dry bird is the best we can do.