Boning a Chicken

Disclaimer: I’ve had quite a bit of wine, and my bedtime will pass before I finish writing this, so it may be incoherent. Deal with it, please.

I’m reading the book Julie and Julia. It is so, so much better than the movie, but the problem is that it makes me hungry.  I always read before bed and then I find myself trying to sleep and tossing and turning while fantasizing about poached eggs or beef bourguignon.  Guys, I don’t even really know what beef bourguignon is, but Julie talks about it a lot and so it’s probably delicious.  She also talks about aspics, which are weird-ass jelly things, and cutting up a live lobster. Gross.

Mmmm… lobster.

uhhh... yum?

Don’t you worry, kids, this will definitely not turn into a food blog.  That said, I am going to talk about food tonight.  We have dinner with my dad once a week and we usually go to his house, where he cooks us something amazing and then happily sends us home with leftovers after playing a mean game of Scrabble.  But tonight, he came to our house.  Given that he has always cooked amazing things – even if I did not have the capacity to appreciate them for the majority of my childhood – I felt the need to make something good.

We went to the farmer’s market in a neighboring town yesterday – apparently one of the best in the Boston area – and I had, for the first time, smoked bluefish. Oh. My. Amazing. So I bought $9 of fish (about 2″ x 2″ on a little plate) for an appetizer. All I had to do was cut it up.

Then today we went to our farmer’s market and spent between $30 and $60 for a dinner for 4. Ridiculous. Justified slightly by the acquisition of a few additional petsitting jobs and – oh yeah – Turtle’s getting a job yesterday. Woo hoo!

Blah blah blah, we bought yummy food and organic chicken breast.  I’ve made chicken breasts before, maybe five times. Maybe. It came out fine.  So we bought delicious chicken and thawed it and then opened the package 15 minutes before people were supposed to arrive… and suddenly found that it was not boneless chicken breasts.


click for source

Turtle says I should not say I boned a chicken in mixed company.  Oh well.


I am no Julie of Julie and Julia (yet), and I am nowhere near going out to kill my own chickens, but I was awfully proud of myself for pulling apart chickens and finding the meat and pulling off the skin and the extra tissue and seeing blood and not freaking out.  It was the best chicken I’ve ever eaten, and I would definitely do it again.

Have you ever done this? Have you killed your own food? Was it more delicious than regular food? Do you think everyone should do it?! Because I kind of do.  Now go find yourself a chicken and make it into food!

P.S. I finished writing this one minute before bedtime! I am on a roll tonight! Minus the minor wedding-related breakdown earlier. Minor detail. More on that later, but only if you remind me.



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3 responses to “Boning a Chicken

  1. fancee

    you. are. a. nut. and a vegetarian, my butt. 🙂

    and no nervous breakdowns for you today, ‘kay?

  2. I will talk food with you any day any time. I spend so much time on and just drool and copy down so many recipes that I’ll never have enough time to actually get through.

    The first time I made a whole roast chicken (and deboned it first) was one of the proudest moments of my adult life 😉 It came out beautifully and delicious and I felt like I totally accomplished something.

    I end up spending quite a bit of cash at the farmer’s markets as well but I honestly think the quality of meat and veggies is so much better.

    Congrats on your first chicken boning experience!

    • Thank you!! Someday I will write about how my vegetarian identity is slipping away… but it’s doing it while eating delicious things 🙂

      Ill have to check out that website…

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