Gifted a Chicken!

After arriving home at 6:15am from my trip to Abia, I had to hurry up and grade my students’ exams and get the grades entered (by hand!) by that afternoon. Since one of my colleagues had taken the sheets home with him to the village, my friend graciously took me to the village to complete the information there. My colleague, grateful for our efforts, gifted me a chicken, not a frozen chicken, not a recently butchered chicken, a live chicken! I kind of laughed and didn’t know how to respond… “Thanks!”…however, I was eternally grateful when my friend, Asper, volunteered to tie it to his motorcycle handle as we rode 20 minutes to his brother’s house where he offered to teach me how to prepare it!

***WARNING*** If you’re content with simply believing that the chicken magically ends up shrink-wrapped in the frozen section of the supermarket, just quit reading this entry. However, if you want a little inspiration to become a vegetarian, read on, it just might push you over the edge! Everyone around me was astounded that I had never butchered a chicken before…they just kept giggling!

I was unable to participate in the actual killing. It was just too much, but after that, I was an active contributor! Boiling water is poured over the bird so that the feathers can be removed easily. After I stopped anthropomorphizing the bird and relating the feather removal to pulling out hair, the process was less disturbing. It actually became quite intriguing. The remaining skin was bumpy…just the way that uncooked chicken skin looks…imagine that! AND the feathers were hollow on the inside! I knew that feathers were used as ink pens, but seeing them directly plucked from the chicken made it real on a whole new level! WOW! I learned that you should look for joints in order to make the sectioning of the chicken easier. I was becoming more comfortable with holding limbs and cutting them off, but then we opened the torso and it was almost too much! There were eggs! Oh my goodness! I felt bad, but then rationalized to myself that many of the chickens that I’ve eaten over the past 26 years probably had eggs in them as well and I didn’t have any qualms about it before.

Luckily, we found the gizzard, and the excitement of cutting it open to find the “garbage can” full of sand distracted me! We cleaned it out and put it in the edible pile. Here in Nigeria, the gizzard is always given to the man of the house. I asked why the one half couldn’t go to the wife if it was so delicious?! They just laughed and said that it would completely disrespect the man to do that. Hmmm…after I taste it, I’ll decide whether it’s a battle I want to fight! 

We finished cutting and cleaning it and I was able to take it home to season it, boil it and then fry half of the pieces! It actually turned out pretty well except for the fact I was so proud of my use of thyme, sage, and marjoram that I forgot to add salt. Whoops! I was thankful that I had some visitors stop by and was able to share my gifted chicken that I had personally, butchered, cleaned, and cooked! While I can’t say that I want to participate in this entire process for every chicken I eat, I feel that I now more intimately understand that process that takes place from the crowing rooster to the bag of frozen chicken breasts at the grocery store! :)

(When internet cooperates, there will be some accompanying pictures for the strong of stomach!)