It began with a turkey leg: During the 1989 Dallas Cowboys' Thanksgiving Day game, legendary broadcaster John Madden decided the day's star deserved a turkey leg.
Then came the mutant: A six-legged turkey, born when Madden said he wished he could award a leg to star running back Emmitt Smith and the Cowboys' five offensive linemen. The following year, it was so.
Then came the monster: In 1997, Madden introduced America to the turducken. His longtime broadcast partner Pat Summerall brought the frankenfood up, and Madden broke it down as only he could.
"This right here is a turducken," Madden said. "This thing is a de-boned duck, stuffed in a de-boned chicken, stuffed in a de-boned turkey. With stuffing, now you're talking… you kinda just cut this right down the middle, then you cut sideways and you get a little chicken, and you get a little turkey, and you get a little duck. Now that there; that's turducken."
While Madden had the bird-order slightly reversed—it’s turkey, duck, chicken—the fact he gave this niche holiday dish a national platform launched it into popular consciousness.
The turducken wasn’t new. But now it was famous. So much so that no Thanksgiving feast is complete without somebody bringing it up. Here’s the true story of the frankenfood’s rise to stunt-food glory.
The Turducken Origin Story
Like many debaucherously delicious things, the turducken came to roost in Louisiana.
Cajun chef Paul Prudhomme claimed to have invented the turducken and trademarked the word in 1986, cementing his claim in legal terms, if not historical consensus. But brothers Junior and Sammy Hebert of Louisiana tell a different story: A customer walked into their meat shop and asked if they could stuff a chicken inside a duck inside a turkey. The Heberts say they figured it out and started making them before Prudhomme's trademark.
The truth probably lies somewhere in the stuffing-filled middle.
By the early 1990s, the turducken had earned a devoted following across Louisiana—and, far from a joke, the regional delicacy required tremendous skill to execute. The process demanded deboning three birds without tearing the skin, layering them with cornbread and sausage dressings, then sewing the whole operation together with surgical precision. It was beloved, but remained largely unknown beyond state lines.
That's where Glenn Mistich enters the story. Working at one of the Hebert brothers' shops (and dating Sammy's sister Leah), Mistich had become known around New Orleans for his meticulous turducken craftsmanship. He sold about 200 per year from his own shop, The Gourmet Butcher Block. It was a respectable business for a niche product—until Dec. 1, 1996, when Mistich found himself walking into the Superdome carrying a 17-pound turducken destined for John Madden's broadcast booth.
The Madden Effect
The turducken might have remained a Louisiana secret if not for a December 1996 encounter between John Madden and Mistich. New Orleans radio host Bob DelGiorno brought Mistich's turducken to Madden's broadcast booth at the Superdome, and the legendary "fork man" was immediately smitten—so much so that he couldn't wait for utensils and dug in with his hands.
When Madden introduced the dish to millions during the broadcast, the business impact was immediate. Mistich went from selling 200 turduckens annually to 2,500 that season alone.
The phenomenon hasn't faded. Kevin Bordes, COO of Big Easy Foods, which operates Turducken.com, said the Madden association drives sales decades later.
"Every time they mention the word, we see spikes on the site," Bordes said. A simple annual reference to turducken sends web traffic surging—proof that on-air enthusiasm created lasting demand.
Madden continued featuring the turducken in every Thanksgiving broadcast until his retirement in 2009, eventually prompting Merriam-Webster to officially add the word to the dictionary. For Mistich's business, the impact was transformative: Roughly 40 percent of his sales since 1996 have been turduckens.
The Turducken Today
At The Gourmet Butcher Block, Mistich still makes every turducken by hand. The process hasn't changed since the beginning. "It's a lot of work involved in it," Mistich said. "It's not just a little quick deal."
But it's that care that makes the dish work. "When you're cooking it, all these drippings incorporate together and make this phenomenal gravy, so it's really moist," he said. The result is something that transcends novelty—it's genuinely delicious, which is why customers return, year after year.
The business has grown far beyond those initial 200 annual turduckens. Mistich now sells thousands each year, shipping nationwide to customers who've made it a family tradition. Bordes echoed that sentiment about Turducken.com. "We do get a lot of repeat customers," he said, noting that while Thanksgiving remains the peak season, Christmas sees strong sales too.
The turducken has also inspired creative variations. Mistich fields requests for custom versions—an alligator stuffed with turducken when LSU plays Florida, or a pig with elephant ears when Alabama comes to town. There's even the fowl de cochon—a deboned pig effectively stuffed with a turducken—that Madden himself once tried. When Fox asked if Mistich could put six legs on a turducken for Madden's All-Madden team, he figured it out. "It looked like a spider," he said.
Last year, Gordon Ramsay visited The Gourmet Butcher Block to make a turducken with Mistich for a segment, impressed by both the process and the result. The attention hasn't stopped—but for Mistich, the turducken's appeal has always been rooted in its Louisiana origins. “It's unique, and it's not something you can get anywhere,”' he said. “It was born here in Louisiana. It's a Cajun thing.”
The Legacy Continues
Nearly 30 years after that first Superdome meeting, Mistich is still connected to the Madden legacy—literally. This Thanksgiving, Fox is flying Mistich and his son Chazz to Detroit for the holiday game, where they'll appear live on air with Tom Brady. It's the same network, and remarkably, the same producer: Richie Zyontz, who was producing Madden's broadcasts in 1996, now produces Fox's Thanksgiving coverage.
The NFL has woven the turducken into its Thanksgiving tradition. The ceremonial coin toss at each holiday game features a silhouette of John Madden on one side and a six-legged turducken on the other. Mistich collects them—he has two so far, and will get his third this year.
"I quit school in 10th grade to be a commercial fisherman," said Mistich. "I never dreamed I'd be on TV in front of millions of people."
Mistich now works alongside his son as they prepare for Chazz to take over the business. The relationship with Madden's memory remains deeply personal. "I truly have to give all the credit to God," he said, his voice welling with emotion. "It's a gift."
Asked whether the turducken will endure another 20 years, Bordes didn’t hesitate: "It's been around for about 45 years. I don't see it dying off anytime soon."
Neither does Mistich, who still ships a turducken to the Madden family every year. "Truly when we make these things, it's from the heart," Mistich said. "We put a lot of pride in it."
But Will it Sausage?
For anyone who likes the idea of turducken but not the multi-bird deboning journey, sausage has quietly emerged as the working-person’s approach to the same flavor math. Butchers across the country now make turducken sausages—the three-bird trifecta blended, seasoned, and stuffed into a single casing.
And if you want to channel the spirit at home without engineering a poultry Matryoshka, The Sausage Project’s juicy (and mercifully boneless) links get you one-third of the way there instantly—just add “ducken.”
For a cleaner, more achievable riff, try adding a little duck fat to our cornbread-sausage stuffing for a turducken-inspired side that delivers all the richness with none of the surgery. Leave the full turducken to the masters—your oven (and your sanity) will thank you.