By David Draper

Sure, you could play the hipster card this Thanksgiving and roast your $75 heritage turkey in the oven, but because you’re a Wild Chef reader, you’ve gotten your free-range, organic holiday bird by more honest means—by hunting it. And, because you follow this blog, you also grasp that the purest way to cook that bird is over fire, on a charcoal, or if you must, gas grill.

I will admit those perfect, pricey store-bought turkeys and their Butterball brethren have a leg (and plump breast) up on the wild turkey in that they’ve been bred for both the taste and ease of cooking—a result of their fat-filled diet. The wild turkey is a lean bird, spending its days in the opposing efforts of feeding and fleeing predators. This leanness can present some challenges in cooking it on the back deck, but these obstacles can be easily overcome with these simple steps.

By Colin Kearns

By T. Edward Nickens

There may be other deeds more laden with American pomp than carving a Thanksgiving turkey—folding the Stars and Stripes comes to mind—but there aren’t many that train so keen a spotlight on a single moment, a single person, a single act with a knife in hand. The bird has been in the oven long enough to send its aroma wafting through the house, and now the gathered clan sits at the table, gawking at all the wedding china and silver that has emerged from the attic on a schedule similar to that of Halley’s comet. All eyes turn to the turkey. Cue up Norman Rockwell. And don’t screw it up.

By now you should have paved the way for a civil service. Go ahead and decide which kids get the drumsticks before you say grace—no use ruining the meal with a fistfight right out of the gate. Let folks know they shouldn’t eat till Grandma first lifts her fork. No cursing. No ketchup bottles on the table. And honestly, it’s a celebration, so if little Johnny wants to slip a whoopee cushion under Grandpap’s seat, where’s the harm?