A Boy, a Man and Chicken Feet

 

When my husband was growing up back in the 1940’s, his parents owned and operated a poultry store. It was messy work. They often brought him to the site because he was too young for school and because they had nobody else to babysit. As a young tyke he innocently looked on as chicken’s necks were broken, throats slit and they were beheaded and dismembered. He saw dead chickens and smelt the stench of fresh blood and burning feathers. At home after work, they ate the remains of the chickens his parents had slaughtered, that weren’t sold. Every part of the bird… heart, stomach, liver, etc was edible in their house.  His mother would take all parts, except the feathers of the deceased bird, and throw them in a big pot and often make Chicken Soup. My husband said nothing was more delicious, than a big bowl of that soup. He added one of his famiy’s favorite parts of the bird were the boiled chicken feet. Hubby said they were a delicacy, like caviar. I seriously doubt anybody else would compare chicken feet to fish eggs. Back when the caviar was more affordable, I’d sprinkle it in salads for it’s salty taste. I never considered it fancy, or high brow. Nowadays it is. Chicken feet however, seemed like a bottom of the barrel kind of thing. Something you don’t eat… like the lungs of blue crabs. Hubby told me when making ends meet, folks had to be frugal, creative, so everything was edible, back then. I couldn’t imagine seeing body parts like feet,  floating in my soup. And I’d be more than a little afraid to choke on one of the toes if it broke loose. My husband said it was never an issue. I smiled and told him I was grateful chicken feet would NEVER be on our dinner table. He chuckled and said never say never. Although I make chicken soup from scratch, I never throw in all the ingredients his mom did. It’s good for what ails you though. Now… that the worst of the pandemic is behind us… the supply chains that keep us fed are fracturing. And the prices of meat are skyrocketing at the grocery store. Looking carefully through the selections for bargains… imagine my surprise, when I saw a whole section for… you guessed it, CHICKEN FEET. Something old that’s new again. What goes around comes around. Did you eat FEET as a kid? Or have you made them for your family? Any recipes besides throwing them into a pot of boiling water for flavor????  Standing there in the supermarket, I picked up one of the packages and carefully looked at it. The contents didn’t look too meaty to me. All scrawny bones. Got to have something to bite into when chowing down. Package called them Chicken Paws, not feet.  Is that a cutesy marketing strategy to move them into people’s carts??? I put ‘em back and snapped a picture, to show my hubby. He was tickled a new generation was embracing the ‘feet’ to help feed their families. If push comes to shove I might have to too.

I'd much prefer 'below' without the feet, though.