"I Think It Comes Out The A**"

We've moved on to birds and well, we got pretty up close and personal with two of them on Tuesday as you can see from the photo below.  In case you are not in the mood to see a chicken be gutted and broken down, maybe you should skip down to the next post where I promise there is absolutely no internal organs or cleavers. :) 

So, we each had two chickens which came with head and feet on and most of the internal organs.  Note, our introduction to these fine feathered creatures began before 8 am.  What a way to start the day.

Well, at least we know for sure that it is a chicken.

First, we float the chicken over an open flame to make sure all the feathers are gone.

Then, we take aim at the feet.  As you can see, the feet are pretty scaly and considering the fact that the feet will stay on the bird when roasted, the scales have got to go. 

So, into the flames we thrust each foot and then use our bare hands to scrape of the burned scales.

Until the feet look a bit more smooth like this.  Still not too appetizing, I know.

Next comes a "French Manicure."

Let me put it to you this way: if this is what the french believe is a "French Manicure" you won't see me in a nail parlor over here any time soon.

The bird then gets the same royal treatment as Marie Antoinette.

And next gets the bonus of being totally violated.  This is what I mean by "up close and personal."

Out comes some really slimy stuff.

And eventually, everything is out of the cavity and for some reason Chef reassembled it so we could see where it all should be inside the chicken.  Good thing I'm a doctor's daughter and we talked about surgeries over the dinner table because the look on some people's faces was that of being about 1 split second away from hitting the floor.  I, on the other hand, was fascinated and couldn't wait to do it all myself.

My turn.

This is what I meant earlier about being excited.  I was thrilled when I found the trachea.  However, I wasn't sure how to take it out of the bird since it was quite attached.  I wondered this problem out loud and my next door neighbor answered, "I think it comes out the a**."  Ah, only in the kitchen do you hear such poetic and true things.

Man, was my chicken fatty.  P.S. those bright red things in the upper left are lungs.  Apparently, chickens don't smoke.

I started to truss my chickens.  It only took two wrong tries to get it right.

And here they are both appropriately giving me the "bird."

Then chef broke down the chicken into pieces and made this nifty concotion with the bone still in the breast.  He then did the same for the thigh and challenged us to replicate it all.

So, I went for it.

And well, as you can tell, three out of the four pieces have a bone sticking out as they should, but the fourth one in the back is curiously missing one.  Oops.  That's what happens you are doing something for the first time.  Things don't always go right.  I tried explaining that to Chef when he told me that it wasn't funny that I forgot the bone.  He just somehow didn't find the humor in it.  That's fine with me, though, because if I didn't laugh, I think I'd cry.  Of course, the chicken probably didn't think it was all that funny either so I guess I was alone in my sentiment that day.

Stay tuned because today we are going to cook the chickens that we took apart on Tuesday.