Tonight Célénie and I had to get dinner started–alone! Louis-Auguste and David were driving home from Dijon and it was already getting late (Wednesdays are VERY busy in this household). So David called–this conversation was interesting in itself with him trying to speak English and me trying to respond in French that “I think I understand what you’re saying…”
The Mission: Put the left over lasagna in the oven–I could handle that. Start the deep fryer outside–Célénie took care of this (with her dad’s help over the phone). Get the chicken from the freezer and thaw two pieces–we were making chicken nuggets tonight.
So we went downstairs (together of course because it is dark and scary) and searched the freezer. I had never looked in this freezer before–this was really the first time I was in charge of the cuisine here in Chevannes–but it was almost totally filled with meat.
Now when David told me on the phone “not the big, whole chicken” I didn’t know he actually meant there would be a head on this thing! So when I stumbled across three frozen chickens with their heads still attached, I was a bit grossed out. Next I came across two freezer bags of “lapin” (rabbit for non-Frenchies). I of course was reading all the animal names out loud during our search and as I said, “Oh My God! Rabbit!” Célénie quickly told me to keep quiet; her adorable pet LAPIN might hear us! Too cute (hope these frozen animals were not part of his furry family 😦
Anyways, I finally found a bag with two pieces of chicken. We proceeded to thaw them upstairs, then I skinned them (gross) and cut them up into mini, bite-sized pieces for chicken nuggets. I had seen David do all of this the week before, so I realized quickly that the end result was not going to be the same. First of all there were bones, second there was a lot of stringy stuff, and third there was not a good way to cut off “chunks” of meat. But I hadn’t seen any other frozen chickens (besides the ones with heads) so I just proceeded and crossed my fingers.
Well, I didn’t cross them hard enough because when the boys arrived they noticed a difference in the way my pieces looked. FAIL! I explained the way the chicken looked (pre-chopped) and that’s when we knew: J’AI FAIT UNE BETISE (I made a stupidity–literal translation). I had taken the thigh; I needed the breast. The thigh would not cook well in the deep fryer and we would probably not enjoy the texture of it.
Of course David magically appeared with the chicken breasts (looked a lot more like what we used the last time), cut them up, and it was all OK–besides the fact that we ate around 9pm, but I’m sure there are worse things!