The turkey breast was pre-packaged and pre-seasoned, just like many of the foods in British supermarket. Even though Jim was skeptical, he LOVES turkey, so he trusted that Claire wouldn't poison him or make him eat aything too weird. But this turkey looked pretty weird:
Jim's dancing was a little out of control, so Claire put the smack down by using her best hood (British gangsta) impersonation. 
Jim was SCARED so he put on a clever disguise:
Meanwhile, the beans got overcooked and the biscuits had too much salt, but the turkey roasted perfectly and, in disguise, Jim made delicious mashed potatoes, using only 2 sticks of butter.
With great anticipation, Jim carved his first "turkey" (...ummm...breast). He licked his chops and ate a piece of turkey skin with great relish. "DELICIOUS!" he said, "but not as good as my mom's."
"Well, what did you expect, " said Claire. "I could never cook like our Moms!"Despite all that, Thanksgiving was pretty ok in London, but we would have preferred to have been at home.
"YUMMY! I LOVE MASHED POTATOES!!!"
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