Turkey
I have been inordinately sleepy all week. Getting out
of bed in the morning has been a supreme labor. My eyes are so weary I need
sunglasses just to look at the computer screen. Exercise? Laughable. Some
people think I must be fighting a bug. Others suggest that it’s letdown
from our happy but hectic holiday season. I suspect it has something to do with
the turkey.
Mom was given a fresh
turkey for Christmas, which, she having been a vegetarian for 30 some odd years,
she passed off to me. It was a hefty bird – over 15 pounds – and a
good one. I roasted it last Sunday, and have eaten it noon and night pretty
much every day since. I have been napping a
lot.
Turkey itself isn’t a sleep
aid. It won’t put you out like Nyquil. But it does contain an important
component which sets off the complex chain of chemical reactions that end in a
yawn. This precursor to drowsiness is tryptophan. An essential amino acid,
tryptophan cannot be manufactured in the body, but must be obtained from food.
Tryptophan helps the body produce the B-vitamin, which in turn, helps produce
serotonin, a remarkable chemical that (among other things) acts as a calming
agent in the brain and in effect, puts you to sleep.
As far as amino acids go, tryptophan
isn’t that strong. It can be diluted pretty easily by other foods -- say
for example, mashed potatoes and stuffing. The fatigue we all feel after a
hearty Thanksgiving feast is far more likely due to the overabundance of
carbohydrates in our bellies than turkey. But if you’re snacking on
slices of turkey alone, or putting them in a sandwich with some fresh veggies,
tryptophan is liable to go to work, and you are liable to go to
sleep.
At least you will sleep happy.
Both delectable and sustaining, turkey is the foundation of many a scrumptious
meal – several of which I would have been more than happy to cook this
week if Jacob were not so completely obsessed with the turkey club. Is it a
tasty sandwich - the combination of toasted bread, a scrape of mayo, juicy
tomato and crisp lettuce, mouth watering bacon and sliced turkey breast is hard
to beat. In fact, I’m having one right now and it is
divine.
In light of all this sleepy
deliciousness, it’s a shame to think about turkey’s historic fall
from grace. Our modern connotations of turkey include such unflattering terms
as silly, foolish, and idiotic, as in “don’t be such a
turkey!” The domesticated bird, its breast so oversized that it can
barely stand up, is all of those things. But the true American turkey, before
we tamed and sedated it, was “wild and wary to the point of genius,”
according to author G. T. Klein.
Our
founding father Benjamin Franklin thought that the turkey -- and not the bald
eagle -- should be our national bird. He wrote in a 1784 letter to his
daughter:
“For my own part I wish
the Bald Eagle had not been chosen the Representative of our Country. He is a
Bird of bad moral Character. He does not get his Living honestly. You may have
seen him perched on some dead Tree near the River, where, too lazy to fish for
himself, he watches the Labour of the Fishing Hawk; and when that diligent Bird
has at length taken a Fish, and is bearing it to his Nest for the Support of his
Mate and young Ones, the Bald Eagle pursues him and takes it from him... Besides
he is a rank Coward: The little King Bird not bigger than a Sparrow attacks him
boldly and drives him out of the District. He is therefore by no means a proper
Emblem for the brave and honest Americans who have driven all the King birds
from our Country... In Truth the Turkey is in Comparison a much more
respectable Bird, and withal a true original Native of America... He is besides,
though a little vain & silly, a Bird of Courage, and would not hesitate to
attack a Grenadier of the British Guards who should presume to invade his Farm
Yard with a red Coat
on.”
•
Ben
Franklin would be pleased to know that wild turkeys still live in abundance
throughout America. After a dangerous period of near extinction, they rebounded
and now abide in every state in the Union except for Alaska. Domesticated
turkeys reside mostly the South. In effect, thanks to our tremendous appetite
for the bird, there are now two races of turkey, and while I delight in the fact
that wild turkeys roam the land just as they have for thousands of years, I am
not a bit sorry that domesticated turkeys are about as well, living large,
acting ridiculous and finally gracing my table. Food for thought. I’ll
leave you to muse on it for a while. I myself am off to catch forty
winks.
Posted: Fri - January 7, 2005 at 01:28 PM