After reading Cat Lincoln's piece on turducken, I began thinking about other meat-stuffed animal monstrosities. After all, if somebody came up with the great idea of cramming a chicken inside a duck inside a turkey, there is clearly no limit to the potentials of serial killer-style cuisine.

Why not an Arabic-accented goat stuffed inside a lamb stuffed inside a camel? The Gocamellamben could be heavily spiced with cinnamon and served with a side of yogurt sauce. Alternately, having lived for years in Appalachia, I can definitely say that there is a place for the Squirpossumvenison, as long as it's served with a lot of biscuits and some red-eye gravy.

All kidding aside, there is a long and proud history of meat-stuffed meats. While the turducken was, supposedly, the invention of Chef Paul Prudhomme, the idea of cooking animals inside each other dates back at least to the court of Catherine de Medici. She would instruct her chefs to cook swans and peacocks, and then sew them back in their skins. Altermately, her staff would fill the beautiful birds with the minced meat of chickens and ducks (peaducken?), as they tasted better than the gamy peacocks.

While the peaducken is impressive, in terms of pure meat power, it pales beside John Grimball's "Charleston Preserve of Fowl." This dish consists of a dove stuffed into a quail, stuffed into a guinea hen, stuffed into a duck, stuffed into a capon, stuffed into a goose, stuffed into a peacock or turkey (peagoochuckhen, stuffed with a quove?). Presumably, the whole mess would then be stuffed into a room full of tryptophan junkies and subsequent gout sufferers.

For those who prefer red meat, the "Georgian Feast," which Darra Goldstein discusses in her book of the same title, is far more promising. It starts with a huge, boned ox that is roasted on a spit. The ox is, in turn, filled with a calf, a lamb, a turkey, a goose, a duck, and a chicken (oxveallambturgucken?). Everything, of course, is properly seasoned and perfectly cooked. Presumably, a lot of booze helps it all go down smoothly.

As somebody whose Thanksgiving table always sports a big turkey and an even bigger ham, I probably shouldn't throw stones. After all, eating huge amounts of food with family and friends is a holiday tradition, and few things say "festivities" quite as eloquently as a roasted bird. Following that logic, it's hard to imagine anything more meaningful than a turducken!