Cozy mystery author Carly Winter shares two hilarious Thanksgiving disasters involving a golden retriever, a dropped turkey, and a plastic bag no one noticed. Perfect holiday reading!
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Every cozy mystery has a few key ingredients: a charming setting, a lovable cast of characters, and a secret someone's trying to keep. As it turns out, so does Thanksgiving dinner.
I've had my share of kitchen calamities over the years, but two turkey disasters stand out—and both taught me that the best-kept secrets aren't always solved. Sometimes, they're just... served with gravy.
The Case of the Golden Retriever and the Fallen Bird
I was young—old enough to remember, young enough to be horrified—when I witnessed my first Thanksgiving cover-up.
My mother, grandmother, and I were in the kitchen, orchestrating the kind of controlled chaos that only happens on major holidays. The air was thick with the smell of roasting turkey and simmering gravy.
My mother pulled the turkey from the oven.
Then she dropped it.
Time slowed. The bird hit the floor with a heavy, meaty thud. And before any of us could react, our golden retriever—a sixty-pound blur of fur and opportunism—launched herself at the fallen prize.
For half a second, the three of us stood frozen, staring at the scene like witnesses to a crime. Then survival instincts kicked in.
My grandmother and mother sprang into action, hauling the dog off the turkey while I stood there, mouth open, certain that Thanksgiving was ruined. Our golden, it should be noted, held no regret for her opportunism.
My mother's eyes welled with tears. "What are we going to do?"
My grandmother, a woman who had survived far worse than a dog-handled bird, didn't miss a beat. "Rinse it off. Slice it up. Serve it."
"But the dog—"
"No one will know." Grandma was already reaching for the carving knife. "You've got twenty people out there waiting. It'll be fine." Then she turned to me. "This will be our secret."
And that's exactly what we did. We rinsed, we carved, we plated that turkey like nothing had happened. My grandmother, as usual, was right—not a single guest suspected a thing.
Though I did notice that the three of us avoided eating the turkey that year.
The Case of the Overconfident College Girls (and the gizzards)
Years later, I found myself in another turkey predicament—this time in my college apartment, armed with enthusiasm, wine and absolutely zero experience.
My roommate was Canadian, wonderfully proud of it, and determined to properly celebrate Canadian Thanksgiving. This meant one thing: we were making a turkey.
Now, neither of us had ever actually been in charge of cooking a turkey before. We'd watched our mothers do it. We'd eaten plenty of turkey. But really... how hard could it be?
We bought the bird, shoved it in the oven, and threw open the doors for an impromptu open house. A dozen friends crowded into our apartment, everyone hungry and cheerful, while the smell of roasting poultry filled the air. My roommate and I felt like proper adults. Domesticated. Competent.
Then our friend started helping us with the final prep.
"Hey," he said slowly, peering into the turkey cavity. "Did you guys... take the gizzards out?"
We had not taken the gizzards out.
We had, in fact, roasted the entire turkey with the bag of giblets still inside—plastic and all.
There was a moment of silence. And then? Everyone burst out laughing.
We announced our failure to the room like it was a toast, someone made a joke about "extra seasoning," and we served the turkey anyway. It was, against all odds, delicious. The meal was a hit, and my best friend and I added "survived a turkey disaster" to our roommate résumé.
To this day, she's one of my dearest friends. And we still don't let each other live that turkey down.
The Moral of the Story?
Thanksgiving, like a good cozy mystery, isn't about perfection. It's about the people gathered around the table, the laughter that comes from things going sideways, and the stories you'll tell for years afterward.
If you're looking for a great holiday cozy mystery, make sure to check out Mistletoe and Mayhem at your favorite retailer or direct from me