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GOBBLE, GOBBLE

By H. JACQUELINE Suk

The cars were double-parked on Cambridge St. yesterday afternoon as the veteran customers of Mayflower Poultry Co. rushed inside to pick up their holiday birds.

"I've been coming here as long as I can remember," said Imara Soto as she loaded her two 22-lb. turkeys into her car. Soto, formerly of Cambridge, now makes the 30-mile roundtrip from Burlington each Thanksgiving just to fetch the main course for her family's get-together.

Mayflower, whose outdoor sign boasts "Live Poultry, Fresh Killed," may be the most famous place in Boston to purchase live turkeys for Thanksgiving. Yesterday, the shop's front salesroom was packed, telephones rang incessantly and trucks pulled in and out making deliveries.

Mayflower manager Dick Silver chalks it all up to freshness. "That's where the flavor is--in the freshness," he smiles, explaining that all his turkeys come from Massachusetts farms--a claim few supermarkets can match.

At $1.39 per pound, fresh turkey is no longer a bargain, but has caught on as health-conscious consumers turn away from red meat, Silver notes. While he hesitates to give specific numbers, he says that by tomorrow he will have sold "thousands" of birds.

Who opts for KYOB (Kill Your Own Bird)? "That's strictly an ethnic thing," says Mayflower manager Dick Silver. "The Chinese people buy it, the Portugese, the Italians. Otherwise, it's a dying industry."

Indeed, progress is making it nigh impossible to make a killing in the live turkey market these days, Silver says. "The people today don't require it unless they grew up on a farm or something. Then they know that fresh is much better."

And while one might think that a person who makes his living on fowl might opt for a Thanks-giving roast, Silver says that's not the case.

"No, it's tradition. I have to take one home tonight as a matter of fact, if I don't forget."

SELLING only 300 turkeys a year, Sage's market on Brattle St. can't match Mayflower's volume. But manager Dwight D. Perodeau was able to offer some insight into turkey farming.

"The turkeys are really pretty dumb. About 10 or 12 guys with these things that look like featherdusters drive them into the killing shed. They have this golden opportunity to get away, but they don't," he says.

"The biggest [turkey] runs around 26 pounds. Most people buy in the neighborhood of 12 to 16 pounds."

Perodeau says the turkeys are put down by mechanical means. "My understanding is that they use an electric knife. They hang them up by their legs, cut their jugular veins and let all the blood drain out. It gives them a nice golden-yellow color."

But, says the manager, even retail grocers are not permitted to see the parts of the farm where slaughtering takes place. "They don't let you see the actual killing process. But that's just as well, I suppose," Perodeau says.

Kate E. Huston, a UMass student and Sage's cashier, says some customers pass over turkey for less traditional holiday fare.

"People come in here and buy ducks, you know, quack, quack. I guess the turkey's pretty traditional. But you can cook duck in the same way or glaze it with orange or something," Huston says.

Other Square merchants are left to handle the post-Holiday crush. At The Store 24, two items always are high on everyone's list.

"Eggs. They go really fast. People come in here from parties six in the morning after they've been out partying. They buy a lot of eggs," said Toyin O. Adesanya, Store 24 cashier. "And there's especially good sales of firelogs. I guess you ignite it and drink around it."

STUDENTS staying at Harvard this weekend can breathe a sigh of relief, however, because Harvard Dining Services will select the 15 turkeys for its annual Thanksgiving Day meal.

Responsibility for the Thanksgiving Day dinner and its 350-odd student patrons is rotated every year among the river houses. Adams House will host this year's gala, from noon to 2 p.m. tomorrow. But Dining Services Assistant Manager Ronald Cockroft is not bitter about having to work on the holiday.

"This is our year. Everybody's up for it. It's what you might call an occupational hazard," he says.

Despite the rotation, Cockroft says he's seen his share of holiday dinners.

"In 34 years, I haven't been home on too many Thanksgivings," says Cockroft, adding that for him, working Turkey Day is a mixed blessing. "If we [at Adams House] have it, it means I don't have to stay home and cook."

But the veteran Dining Services employee maintains a sense of humor about the meal, and about those who don't partake of it. "If you can't eat with the best," says Cockroft, "I hope everything's good at home."

But not all dining hall workers share his enthusiasm for spending the day at Harvard.

"I'm just glad I'm not working," says Quincy House dining hall worker Austin Price, who spent last Thanksgiving tending turkeys. "The pay was good and all, but it's just the point of being here. You're just not really with the family--plus I miss a lot of football games."

ODDLY enough, for many undergraduates, food seems to be most on their minds.

"Eat. I plan to eat. I'm psyched to get out of here. It's been too long since I got here in September," said Todd F. Bourell '92, "It's definitely time to go."

But some students' holiday plans reflect other priorities.

"I'm going to Pittsburgh to spend time with my girlfriend's family," said Anthony C. Shen '92. "And her, of course," he added.

But while most students look forward to sitting down with the family at a traditional dinner, Yard advisors say Thanksgiving can be a tough time for those who aren't able to make it home.

"I think that the people who are going home are very excited. But unfortunately, some people can't make it home and they're more sad than they'll like to admit. It's a mixed bag," said Michael S. Grossman '86, Matthews Hall proctor.

"For the people who will be with their families, it can't come fast enough, but for those who can't see their families until Christmas, it'll probably be a hard time. Most don't stay, but about [several] don't have a place to go on Thanksgiving."

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