Finding the right bird is a challenge today. We do not eat chickens with 34-D breasts and bright yellow skin. Nor do we eat chickens that are in brine, salted and/or flavored. Sorry; I know you get my gist....we're chicken snobs. This said, Joe came home with three perfect little beauties the other night, straight from our favorite butcher.
My mind was spinning with plans for various parts of these little fellas. Thoughts of my Dad must have put my palate in the mood for some chopped liver. Anticipating an appetizer, I went searching for the livers, as I cleaned the chickens for refrigeration. Not only were there no livers, but no giblets or necks were to be found in any little cavity.
Poor Joe was so startled when I yelled out, "Where the **&&^^%% are the ****&&^^% livers??" "What are you talking about?" said he. "THE LIVERS!"
Well, you have to understand, Joe's tastes are not as ethnically diverse as mine; and a week-long fast would not encourage him to eat liver.....thus, an explanation ensued.
I began thinking aloud, "With the economy in such dire straits, I'll bet our butcher is selling the livers separately." Yep, thought I, "And he's probably putting them in recycled, pint-sized Chinese soup containers, truth be known!"
Sorry, Dad...no chopped liver in your honor this week.
Soon, I'll tell my venison stories. Be prepared, 'cause Men Hunt!
