Saturday I set some meat to marinating for Sunday dinner, but right now (12:18pm, Sunday afternoon) I can't conceive of ever wanting to eat it (or anything else, ever again) after last night's Momofuku fried chicken dinner.
If you roll up on that chicken dinner (my third!) with only 6 chicken eaters, your pride (and the deliciousness) will get the best of you and you'll eat until you've got a whole angry coop in your stomach.
Wrap after wrap after wrap, wraps without number, wraps without end.
Stephen contributed a quiet, methodical, never-yielding approach to the eating of the chicken. I believe he was the last man to tap out, he fought a beautiful fight.
The platter of shame...these pieces (and a pile of lettuce) now reside in my fridge, waiting for the post-Millenial day when I'm ready to finish them off.
As we left, a party of 4 were presented with their 2 and 1/4 chickens...what manner of humiliation did they wish to bring on themselves? Or maybe they were a club of Kobayashis?IMPORTANT UPDATE: Just got home from church, nibbled a tiny bit of leftover chicken. HOLY SMOKES! This is the BEST cold leftover chicken I've ever had! Still so crispy.
2 comments:
Brilliant post. Loved the writing. Would love to have your leftover dilema...
-Jessi
word verification: "dinges." Ha.
Argh. I meant "dilemma," of course.
Post a Comment