One of the various things I’ve been craving lately is a greasy, juicy piece of fried chicken. With no fried chicken on the horizon, Frank and I made our monthly trip to Costco. Excited was I to learn that Costco in Taiwan has just about all of the accoutrement that Costco in the US has. Including. . . rotisserie chicken! I could hardly wait to get home to bite into the tasty morsel.
Upon arriving home, I pulled open the all too familiar bag and peered inside. What I saw made my stomach flip. What was this? It was seriously not the chicken I am used to. No! They left the head attached and tied down to the body of the poor little thing. The eyes were half open and a faint glimpse of who the chicken actually was (before his unfortunate death) flickered before my eyes. I blanched a bit and quickly closed the bag. Frank asked what was wrong but I hardly had the words. How the heck was I supposed to cut into that THING?
I spent quite a while completing my evening chores with images of the headed chicken invading my thoughts. Finally, I could put it off no longer. I reached into the drawer and grabbed a pair of tongs. I delicately grasped the chicken by one of her wings with the very tip of the tongs and lowered her down on the cutting board. Grabbing the largest knife possible, I slowly pulled the head away from the body. I dropped the knife quickly, hoping to sever the head immediately. I was not so lucky. After several passes, the head disconnected from the body. I had my eyes closed as I lifted it into the bag and put the bag far away from my sight.
Needless to say, I couldn’t eat chicken that night. Perhaps today for lunch the image of the chicken won’t plague me. Chicken with a head attached. . .who’d a thought?