Years ago – when my girlfriend (who is now, years later, my lovely and wonderful wife) became my live-in girlfriend – I was informed that I was part of the “Turkey Revolution”. Of course, I immediately imagined an uprising of ammo-belt clad fowl, who would inconspicuously conspire against the oppresive institutions bent on making them into succulent, Thanksgiving-style dinners before finally rising up against said institutions, and fighting their way through the corporate offices and across the killing-floors of Butterball, Jennie-O and Perdue hacking and slashing with meat-tenderizers and carving knives, all the while incessantly gobbling out their insane battle cry: “Thank THIS, motherfuckers!”
That’s not what the turkey revolution was.
Apparently “revolution” is a word quickly ascribed to movements in the culinary world as they become relatively mainstream (see: raw food revolution, vegetarian revolution, paleo revolution, Jamie Oliver’s Food Revolution, etc.) before disappearing or being dismissed as ridiculous and /or obnoxious…
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