Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Churkey

Why chicken does it to me I'll never understand. It always brings me to my knees. I haven't written a thing in over a month and I find myself in the kitchen chopping up a couple of chunky chicken breasts feeling the need to vent my chicken chopping frustrations. I think it's moments of desperation like these when you reach down deep inside yourself take a good look at your life and realize there is something missing - an automatic chicken chopper.

Now I have a purpose. (Motherhood aside and all that.) I need to come up with a prototype for a chicken chopper. Something that chops chicken, removes the fat and makes it all pretty in half, no, a quarter of the time it takes to manually cut up a chicken breast with a big knife a cutting board and a bad attitude.

Hmmmmm...... I'm not even sure where to begin. You know this is one of those random times when I wish my husband was a butcher. It doesn't happen as often as when I wish he was a firefighter, but that's a blog for another day...

This all might stem from the fact that I'm about to host my first Thanksgiving. Yes, it's true I'm forty... something and I've never cooked a turkey. You can look at that two ways 1) wow, what a lazy butt never having cooked the big turkey meal or 2) wow, she managed to not cook the big turkey meal until she was forty-something, impressive I should take lessons from her. I prefer 2.

When I mention this to people they must see the fear in my eyes because they all tell me it will be ok. And I just nod my head in agreement saying yeah, my mom is coaching me. Tim has picked up on my tension. (That's like saying Tim noticed that brick with turkey gizzards attached that I threw at his head the other day) and has pretty much taken over the turkey preparation. Actually there's no pretty much about it so far it's his baby, uh, turkey and I've decided I'm going to keep my nose out of it and let him take his turkey and run with it. ( I just like to picture that image in my head...)

So no, he's not a chef or a cook or a butcher or a firefighter for that matter but this Thanksgiving he'll be joining the ranks of turkey cooks across America and I will still be a turkey virgin. (Haven't used that word in ..... oh, never mind.)