You’ve been driving for three hours. The leather seats of the Wagoneer are finally warm as the season’s chill settles in. You’re headed of to your Brother-In-Law’s for a Thanksgiving feast. Aunt Bettie will be waiting with her signature pie. Uncle Joe will be sleeping in the recliner with football on the TV,

In the back of your car sits twelve pounds of absolute bliss, A turkey. Not the kind that languished in a supermarket freezer under buzzing fluorescent lights then dried out in the oven because the kids were running around and distracted the cook.

No. This one spent fourteen hours over cured hickory and applewood at Copperhead Lodge. Chef Bill and Clayton from Full Throttle Ministries kept the fire. They know something about patience. They know that you can’t rush grace, and you certainly can’t rush smoke. The Crackly Skin gives way to tender, juicy goodness.

By the time you pull into the driveway, the deep, rich aroma has filled the car and it’s about to fill the house. Your brother-in-law will ask for your secret. Smile. Tell him it’s a spiritual matter.

Order your Thanksgiving bird today! We’ll smoke ‘er up and you simply pick ‘er up! Easy Peasy! (except maybe the fight over the drumsticks!)