My great big ode to chicken
This is an unlikely post. Seeing that “my love for chicken” ain’t really a phrase that ever comes out of my mouth. And, chicken is possibly my least favorite meat.
So, anyway, over the weekend I had an intense craving for something, I really didn’t know what it was at first (does this happen to anyone else?), it was like I could sorta imagine the taste, but I couldn’t figure out what it was, you know? Not really? Ok. Well, it was chicken! And I never crave chicken!
Actually, it was barbecue chicken, and it felt like I desperately needed some. Then it occurred to me that it’s August (August people!!) and I haven’t had anything bbq’d all summer! I almost fainted. For reals. Then I decided that some time before next summer I’m getting my own grill – does it have to be a “man” thing? – not a fancy-smancy-10-acre-type one, but a small coal-powered one, and anyway, I like bbq on coals better.
As a substitute I made baked chicken, which my kids all enjoyed and then the almost 7 year old exclaimed “it’s so good! like your famous chicken!!” Well, I was obviously pleased, but then it occurred to me that I haven’t really been cooking anything particularly good recently (actually Sid pointed that out to me quite a while ago, but for the purposes of this story, THIS is the moment, I had the revelation).
For me, cooking is an art. I am of the school of thought that your ingredients should dictate the dish and not the other way around. That your feelings and mood has a lot to do with what you cook. But, like any art form, you need to feel inspired, you need to feel desire, and I guess recently I didn’t, so I cooked what I needed to so that my kids didn’t starve. However, I never realized that perhaps my kids were actually missing my cooking. It’s weird, but it was exactly the motivation I needed, I think, so, at least for the moment, I am feeling the urge to do the “cook something different everyday for a year” thing! But, except, maybe for like, a week.
