Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, November 24, 1994 TAG: 9411250027
SECTION: NATIONAL/INTERNATIONAL PAGE: A-1 EDITION: HOLIDAY
SOURCE: SARAH HUNTLEY STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
When Alice Eades tallied up her guest list, she knew she'd need a lot of turkey. Twenty-five people, some driving from as far away as Kentucky and Indiana, will pile into her home today. All will come with hearty appetites and great expectations.
So Eades did what any sensible hostess would do. She decided to serve not one, but two, big birds.
The first weighed 28.78 pounds. One of the biggest available in Roanoke-area retailers, the fresh Wampler-Longacre turkey was sold by Mason & Hannabass on the Roanoke City Market.
"We prefer a big bird," Eades said. "They are getting harder and harder to find. We usually get one in the 30-pound range. My daughter brings them in from Pennsylvania, where the Amish raise them. But they didn't have them this year."
After seeing an ad for Mason & Hannabass, the mother of nine phoned the store and told it to reserve "the biggest bird they had." And in case that tom doesn't stuff her crowd, Eades' daughter is roasting a second, 24-pound, turkey too.
Call it the quest for the big bird. To Thanksgiving enthusiasts, it's a serious pursuit, as well it should be.
There is such a thing as the perfect turkey. It's the bird that cooks up golden brown, with juices running down onto the platter, the kind that has drumsticks the size of bowling pins, the one that would impress the king of holiday scene-setting himself, Charles Dickens.
A big bird is a matter of pride.
There's no way to say for certain that this year's biggest bird will be served in the Eades household. The turkey business is booming throughout the valley, and some of the chain supermarkets said they've sold giant turkeys, too.
"The biggest one we had wouldn't fit on my scales. It had to be 30 pounds or more," said Jim Heninger, the meat manager at the Kroger store at Cave Spring Corners. "I just stuck a 30-pound plus label on it and priced it at 30 pounds."
Heninger doesn't know the name of the customer who purchased that one.
The search for the perfect turkey shouldn't be too hard in the Roanoke Valley, which is nestled in the heart of turkey heaven. North Carolina, just to the south, is the nation's No. 1 turkey producer, and Virginia ranks fifth, according to the state Department of Agriculture.
"In 1993, Virginia produced 21 million birds. That's 392,700,000 pounds of turkey meat," state statistician Bob Bass said.
Most of the larger turkeys come from WLR Foods in Hinton, which markets turkeys under the Wampler-Longacre label. Since WLR joined with Cuddy Farms in North Carolina, the company sells 36 million turkeys a year, spokeswoman Gail Price said. Thirty-five percent of its birds are sold during this quarter.
According to Steve Clausen, director of live production, WLR's tom turkeys average 23 pounds, but the breeders do raise turkeys as heavy as 33 pounds. Most of the bigger birds are used for processed meat, Clausen said, but some are set aside for Thanksgiving feasting.
"I think a very big bird in a household is about a 24-pound one," Price said. "When you see a 30- or 35-pound bird, you are normally talking about restaurants."
Under pressure to serve scores of hungry people, Roanoke's restaurant owners turn to Roger Boardwine. For three years, the frozen meat buyer with the Roanoke Restaurant division of U.S. Food Service has supplied them with turkeys.
"We provide a wide range of turkeys. The most popular is the 22- to 26-pound turkey. The monsters - the 34-pounders - are used in cafeterias and whatnot,'' he said.
Keeping the restaurants stocked through the holiday takes planning.
"We started preparing for Thanksgiving in July," Boardwine said.
In Alice Eades' home in Chamblissburg, preparations were under way early. Thanksgiving is Eades' birthday, and the family will celebrate big.
"I've been cooking all week," Eades said.
Wednesday afternoon was devoted to baking. The smell of pies wafted from her wood-burning stove, and a telling sign hung in her kitchen: "Mom's busy. Take a number."
by CNB