Ahh, this posting reminds me of my first stay in Madrid in 1989. Another American and I decided to make our own Thanksgiving meal and set out to the butcher. Well, the closest we could find to a turkey was a chicken, not paying attention to the butcher, we returned home only to find the bird with it;s head and feet still attached. We were so freaked out (in those days) that we marched the chicken right back to the butcher so HE could cut off the undesirable parts! Needless to say, no turkey, lumpy mashed potatoes, bad wine BUT good company made for a very memorable meal!