“Mom, I have NEVER eaten a chicken butt! Why do you always get to eat it?” Markus complained after seeing the butt-less roast chicken I bought from the Superstore.
He shouldn’t be surprised. He knows I love chicken butts. Everyone in the family knows I’m a keen chicken-butt eater. In fact, at home they hardly see, much less eat, the butt of a chicken. I eat it from the pot or before bringing a cooked chicken dish to the dining table.
Occasionally, my boys beat me to it. Perhaps they get envious or simply curious to try this juicy, tasty, fatty, crunchy triangular chicken part that Mom's so greedy about. I think this happened twice--yes, only two times that I can remember--and on both occasions, I hollered, “WHO ATE THE BUTT?”
I don’t know when it started but I believe my chicken butt fondness began when my mother cooked more chicken at home. You see, in the early days, we could hardly afford this meat. It was more expensive than fish or pork, hence, considered a special food item.
There was a time too when I used to have nasty eczema breakouts and our family doctor told me to avoid chicken, among a long list of good foods like shrimps, crabs, pork, etc. Many years later, a dermatologist declared that my “eczema” had nothing to do with my diet.
With that doctor's declaration and my parents' improving budget, I found myself eating more and more chicken and loving it. Why not, after years of self-control and deptrivation?! I ate chicken to the bone. I ate tendons and ligaments (I still do at home). I chewed the bones to a pulp (this I don’t do anymore). I was making up for all the scrumptious chicken that left me salivating at the dining table.
Somewhere along the way, I developed a chicken butt delectation.
Here in Canada, chicken is cheap it’s my first meat of choice. Besides, it's healthier than other meats. I buy it regularly and learn new ways of cooking it because my kids are already getting tired of the same things.
Regardless of how chicken is cooked, one thing remains. Mom gets the butt, of course!