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OEY DAVENPORT remembers his mother waking up at the crack of dawn to tend to the Thanksgiving turkey. She'd clean and rinse, season and bakeand bakeand bakeand bake.
Davenport, who lives in Spotsylvania County, appreciates his mother's pursuit of the perfect holiday dinner. But he believes he can fix a better bird.
Tomorrow, he'll lug a steel pot into his backyard, pour in a hefty helping of peanut oil and crank up his propane cooker. He'll drop in the bird, pop open a beer and shoot the breeze with his brothers-in-law.
And he'll deep-fry four to six turkeys in a fraction of the time it takes his mother to bake one in the oven.
"It's kind of like fishing or wrestling or watching NASCAR," said Davenport, who has been deep-frying turkeys for 10 years. "It's just one of those things guys do."
Those who have taken the deep-fried plunge say they cook birds with crispier skin and moister meat. And the surprising part? They're similar in calories and fat grams to the oven-baked variety, said Jean Hoppe, a dietitian at Pratt Medical Center.
"If it's done safely and with the proper equipment, it looks like it might be a tasty alternative," she said.
That's because the high heat of the oil sears the turkey's skin, sealing the juices in and keeping the oil out.
Deep-fried turkey has become so popular locally that many discount and hardware stores carry the cookers. They cost about $50 to $80, depending on size and quality. And they're often sold as sets that include pots, baskets, seasoning injectors and other equipment.
The National Turkey Federation in Washington recommends frying turkeys in an open, level space on dirt or grass, never indoors. Bubbling oil can stain wood decks, mar concrete patios or worse, so deep-fried birds require constant supervision.
"If you burn your house down, you're going to feel real dumb," said Larry Snider of Locust Grove, who starts frying turkeys when the weather turns crisp.
Children and pets should never be allowed near fryers.
Harry Lloyd Jr. of Spotsylvania started deep-frying turkeys four years ago, when a co-worker turned him on to the quicker cooking method.
He thaws the poultry, then pumps up the flavor by massaging a rub beneath the skin and injecting the meat with a butter-and-herb or a Creole marinade.
The turkey federation recommends frying turkeys only in oils with high smoke points, like canola, peanut or sunflower. The temperature should reach 365 to 375 degrees before a completely thawed bird is carefully added to the oil.
With a cooking time of only about three minutes per pound, a 20-pound bird can be ready to carve in about an hour.
But smaller turkeys that weigh 8 to 10 pounds fry best, according to the turkey federation. Bigger birds are more dangerous to lower into and lift out of the hot oil. And the extra cooking time can lessen the quality of the finished product.
"The bigger they are, the longer you have to leave them in the oil," Davenport said. "The longer you leave them in the oil, the more they absorb."
The Butterball Turkey Talk Line received few calls from cooks with deep-frying questions when it started its holiday service 23 years ago, said director Mary Clingman.
"Way back then, it was done only in Louisiana," she said. "As time went on, we could see it creeping across the country. And now, of course, it's everywhere."
But the folks at Butterball don't dole out deep-frying tips, citing safety concerns. Instead, representatives refer callers to the National Turkey Federation's Web site, eatturkey.com, which offers recipes and cooking tips.
Popeye's on Plank Road, which has offered prepared deep-fried birds for the past two years, was down to its last turkey late last week, said general manager Heather King.
Ukrop's sold out for the second year in a row, said Mary-Ann Owen, director of carry-out catering for the Spotsylvania store.
"When we were sampling them, they were supermoist and juicy," she said.
Last Thanksgiving, Snider put his poultry cooking skills to the test, pitting his own deep-fried bird against one his father baked in the oven.
"Mine, at the end of the night, was gone," Snider said. "He had a lot left over."
To reach LISA CHINN: 540/374-5424 lchinn@freelancestar.com