Dinner in Deutschland

Well, that's the last time I do any impulse buying in the frozen meat section.

While grocery shopping last week, I couldn't be bothered to take time to decipher the description printed on the front of a box of what I thought were frozen chicken breasts. I tossed the box into my shopping bag and went on my merry way, coming home with the chicken, and about eight billion condiments. I have developed this strange habit lately of going into the store intending to buy, you know, real food, and coming out with nothing but condiments. I have more gourmet mustard, salad dressing, dipping sauces, etc. than anyone could ever ask for. Do I have anything to apply said sauces to? Nope. Nothing.

Thus my feeling of accomplishment when I bought an entire BOX of chicken. I could dunk and slather to my heart's content.

Well. It would seem reading the front of a box of frozen meat is a highly advisable thing to do. Imagine my shock and dismay when I opened the box of chicken breasts to find an extremely strange looking array of parts. Yes, it was an entire chicken, butchered in possibly the weirdest manner I could ever have imagined. There were two pieces that looked very claw-like...I've had trouble banishing the image from my mind. I was kind of at a loss as to what to do with this pan of chicken...it was a WHOLE chicken, and thus full of meat. But it looked absolutely diiiiiiisgusting. 100% unappetizing. And this is coming from someone who will eat just about anything. Or, at least try just about anything. I cite the gumball incident junior year of high school as a reference. (Krystyn, this citation is obviously for your own personal enjoyment.)

Well, I ended up half-heartedly sliding it into the oven, hoping that maybe it would improve with heat. Of course I then proceeded to start a craft project and completely forget that I had something cooking. I didn't remember until I went into the kitchen to get some orange juice and sniffed the air thinking "What is that strange sme- oh shit!" So I ended up with chicken...jerky. Which is even grosser than what I started with. It's currently swaddled in foil, taking up room in my teeny tiny refrigerator. I'm unsure what to do with it.



Priamary moral of the story: read the fucking label.

Tertiary moral of the story: memorize the German words for "entire" and "carcass." Avoid anything in the future that includes these two words.