Yesterday it was an almost cold 70 degrees and I was in the mood for white chicken chili. I've been able to find frozen, packaged chicken breasts a couple of times, but the grocery store by our house doesn't always have them in stock and yesterday they were out. Faced with a half hour car ride to the grocery store that always has chicken in stock I mustered my courage and headed down the street to a place that I'd only seen through a thick cloud of flies: the Chennai Chicken Center.
Even though the chicken center is just steps away from our house, I never knew what went on there. To really see this place you have to get right up in front of it. From there you can peer over the plywood barrier seperating the store from the street and see a man holding a rusty blade, a couple of buckets and ten or so chickens, clucking around in the back.
I would have turned around, made a bean chili instead, but our driver, determined to be helpful, was already placing an order. I told him I wanted white meat and he just gave me a quizzical look. "You have a knife?" he asked.
"Here?"
"At home."
I could only just reply with a little head bobble because my mind was racing, "A knife? What the hell?"
My worst fears were put to rest when the man behind the plywood pulled an already dead chicken from a big bucket on the floor.
Again the driver turned to me, "One kilo, 100 rupees. Ok?"
I wish I could say that I handled myself with complete composure, but really I just stood there, mouth hanging open, eyes wide, "Sure, yes. Ok."
A few strokes of the knife later I had my chicken, stuffed into a tiny plastic sack. I held it out in front of me a ways and took the ten or so steps back to the house. Once inside I checked the recipe, which called for 3 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cooked and cubed.
Hmmm, how about a chicken that's been pulled from a bucket and hacked to pieces with a rusty blade?
My rationale against all the illness and disease I was up against was threefold:
1. I can't imagine conditions are any better in the slaughterhouse where the frozen breasts come from
2. I've already come this far
and
3. I want chili
So in to the frying pan it went, but just to be safe, I cooked the shit out of that thing.
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6 comments:
My first big laugh for the day.
You paint a very visual picture!!
Especially entertaining from a recovering vegetarian.
Mom
Yes, this is especially entertaining coming from a recovering vegetarian. You don't know how much I needed that laugh! At our "CSA" this summer I had to actually watch them kill the darn chicken, which wasn't as bad as I thought, but there's not much white meat on those things, or meat at all! Me thinks they get too much exercise as there's hardly any meat on the poor things at all! Anyway, I hope you chili was good!
Jan
i love you and your braveness sarah. Neal and i are dying of laughter right now! :)I can just picture you walking back with the bag o chicken 2 feet in front of your body, blood dripping on your feet hahaha. AND I wont be the least bit surprised if you return from India as a bacon eating vegetarian. :) MISS YOU! xoxoxoxo
p.s. i have been looking for a white chicken chili recipe...can you share yours?! I will make the american version and mail you some. haha.
Jan, yesterday I took Brad to the chicken center and there were no dead ones, so you know what that means. We didn't watch, but we couldn't help listening.
Laura, I use this recipe:
http://allrecipes.com/recipe/cha-chas-white-chicken-chili/detail.aspx
It's goooood. Can't wait to try yours ;)
Lots of love to you all!
Laura, I miss your blog!!
Sarah,
When your parents, Tom and I were drinking beer and wine together on Sunday and having a picnic in the basement because they have no furniture (not unlike when we all first got married), I heard about your experience with the live chickens. Are you sure you're not going to go back to vegetarian?
Jan
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