Here’s my thought process: I eat meat. I’m interested in food and how it makes its way to my plate. I should kill a turkey with my bare hands. It seemed like a good idea at the time. But as I stood, shivering in the cold on a Colorado Springs farm, knife in hand and a surprisingly cute 18-pound Bourbon Red turkey dangling upside down, inches in front of me, it didn’t seem like as good of an idea. But first, how I got here: On Thursday, 287 million of us will eat a turkey dinner, and exactly seven of us will have killed it ourselves.