Chicken grin

We didn’t eat much chicken in my house when I was growing up, mainly because I think my mother was tired of it after The Great Depression and the war years. They had plenty to eat during those times, it just wasn’t store bought food or specialty items. Everything came from the farm, even the ice was cut out of the lake and stored in sawdust for summer.

Once when Mother went to her Uncle Sam’s for Sunday dinner, she looked at the table and exclaimed, “Chicken again!” I think “Toots” was in her mother’s doghouse that day.

So, like I said in the beginning we didn’t eat much chicken at all, although Mother did develop a taste for Kentucky Fried Chicken in its heyday. And Daddy would go to the Amish restaurant Das Essenhaus and order two chicken breasts – one for him and one for Miss Alice. (Our first Australian Shepherd)

Now, Alison, on the other hand, is a chicken-eater and so is Summer; I learned it was easy to slap chicken breasts in a baking dish, toss them in the oven and present one to Summer and she’d be, if not happy, mollified. It was pretty easy. I got to the point where I liked chicken salad when I made it myself – I ain’t eating no ground-up gizzards.

Der Bingle doesn’t like chicken either so we work around him, but we do now have it in the house. Today I saw on a news site that lots and lots (as in tons) of chicken was being recalled and thought, “Oh, Lord, Der Bingle is going to be restless.” However, when I clicked on the link I found out they were talking about chicken feet. Pots of chicken feet. You really had to see the image to feel the full effect, so, here, be my guest:
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Well, at least if Mother were Chinese and in her childhood now, and if it were a Sunday and she was at her uncle’s, she wouldn’t have cause to exclaim, “Chicken feet again!.”

2 thoughts on “Chicken grin”

  1. Well being raised on a cattle ranch and forever identifying as a ranchers daughter I am definitely a beef person. Unfortunately if family members don’t come through with home grown beef (organic grass fed, the best!) I am in the spend a billion bucks to get good beef crowd. Needless to say when I run out of beef I go with chicken. BUT…. chicken is just slimy sometimes. And the thought of all those chicken feet… ewwww.

    Savva is allergic to beef so he eats a lot of chicken and a lot of fish. My dad is probably rolling over in his grave knowing he has a great grandson allergic to dead cow. Of course Savva is also allergic to lentils and split peas, which isn’t quite as devastating for some reason.

  2. Mother and Daddy used to get “half a beef” (Can’t bring myself to say half a cow.) from my Aunt Mary and Uncle Glen (Mary was Daddy’s sister). Mother’s freezer was a treasured spot.
    I hope Savva outgrows his allergy to beef; beef, lentils and split peas seem like quite a trio.

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