Cleaning a Chicken

 Plucking feathers off a bird is more tedious than disgusting, but the first time you thrust your whole hand into a chicken’s body cavity to pull out a mass of bloody organs does take a certain mindset.  Twenty years ago, when we were first married, I wanted to eat our chicken, and knew I couldn’t palm off the cleaning job on Tadaaki.  After all, he did the killing.  Probably more than the pile of slimy guts, it was the smell that bothered me, and I learned to remove myself from the process by simply focusing on the metamorphosis from bird to familiar “chicken” shape unfolding at my hand.  Though when I was pregnant, I couldn’t fight my way to that space.  The smell nauseated me, so Tadaaki took over the chicken cleaning until the babies were born.  OK, he often does the cleaning as he’s faster and doesn’t like it that I pluck the feathers in the kitchen.  He thinks you should do it outside on a pile of newspapers, squatting in the dirt.  But my back doesn’t like that position for more than a few minutes.  Give me a chair.  Clearly, I’m not Japanese, since squatting on bent knees with your butt suspended over the ground is a common way to “sit” here.  Uncomfortable, to say the least.

 As western holidays, Thanksgiving and Christmas preparations always fall to me, though Tadaaki sometimes steps in if he’s in the mood.  Last year, I decided it was time to involve the little SSU! kids again in the bird cleaning process.  Education, you know.  Over the years, we had done turkey and chicken cleaning events (despite the mothers being worried we’d freak out the kids or turn them off of chicken meat).  But with the bird flu scare, I had put a stop to chicken coop visits or any other activities involving touching chickens.  The epidemic hysteria died down and the flu had passed us by, so I announced my intentions to the staff.  Our vegetarian teacher hung out in the backyard doing day care duties, but the other teachers (reluctantly) pitched in with the chore.  Most important, they were not to show distaste or hesitation and were to treat the job as “normal.”  Nothing unusual.  And none of the kids could manhandle or disrespect the chickens.

After wrangling for hours with slippery, slick duck feathers the Christmas before, I wanted to try plucking the chickens without the obligatory boiling water dunk.  My theory proved true:  no need for the wetting to dislodge feathers.  And as a result, the feathers were less elusive to pull.  The bonus:  no smell.  The hot water bath releases residual chicken droppings and other feral bodily smells into the water, ending up more of a mess than anything else.  The hot water leaks out of various orifices and splatters you in the face while you pluck. (Not nice.)  But the one thing I hadn’t bargained for were the chicken lice.  Up until now, the hot water bath had killed them (the only drawback to no dip).  The little kids didn’t really notice, thank god, but Matthew and Mugi, our Swiss intern, took exception to the lice crawling on their clothes and both threw in the towel to go home and change.  Tadaaki assured us the lice couldn’t live on humans, so I just swatted them off my arms.  Anyway, they were small.

 Like for most kids, it was fun at first, but got to be a drudge, so interest waned.  To their credit, not many showed revulsion.  At first, a few little ones were scared of the dead birds, but a matter-of-fact attitude helped them overcome those fears.  Not surprising, the best eaters were the best workers—as if they understood the implicit contract between themselves and the getting of their food to the plate.  They were all fascinated with the assembly line Tadaaki set up to eviscerate the six birds we were cleaning for Thanksgiving dinner that year.  Tadaaki slit right above the anus, careful not to cut the fecal sack (and contaminate the meat).  He then inserted his long (and strong) fingers to rip the guts away from the tendrils tenaciously holding the insides adhering to the body cavity walls.  I picked out and separated the livers, gizzards and hearts. 

The livers were destined to become pâté, while the gizzards and hearts, I salted with chopped thyme, bay and garlic, then simmered in duck fat for confit.  I wouldn’t bother making pâté without the fresh livers, but from Tadaaki’s chicken livers it is memorable.  Though it doesn’t go far—a small toast or two each, perhaps.  The gizzards need to be sliced vertically, to free up the gravel inside.  Once rinsed, I spend several long minutes slivering off the tough rippled membrane inside.  For six chickens, it takes about an hour all told to clean the gizzards (maybe I’m slow).  The gésiers, as they're called in France, are one of my favorite parts of the dinner, but unfortunately they overcooked in the heavy Le Creuset…maybe next time.  Somethings are worth the wait.

The Thanksgiving that year (2008) was one of the best ever.  We don’t do potluck, but people bring wine.  And in 2008, our guests not only pulled out the stops for their wine contributions, but it was also an unforgettable combination of friends.  The conversations were animated—both in Japanese and English.  Our kids are all getting older, so we squeezed 32 people around two dining room tables.  Leave it to Sylvan to make it work (he fashioned benches out of the living room tansu coffee tables).  He also put Matthew and Andrew to work scrubbing the kitchen floors so they were appropriately clean enough for sock clad guests (I wore shoes).  And getting the food out, was a group effort (to a degree), though Sylvan popped a third tray of gougères in the oven when I wasn’t looking (…untimed).  Not many would survive that without a tongue-lashing, yet Sylvan did.  A testament, I suppose, to our friendship and a mutual respect for food.

  And nobody complained the chicken was tough.  They knew better.  More to the point, our friends appreciated every part of their meal instinctually, and sent their plates back clean.  (They know the rules.)  As I was serving, I kept thinking, “I’m too old for this.”  But really, I missed gathering this year and will do it again.  And again. 

The little SSU! kids weren’t invited for Thanksgiving, but got to taste their handiwork in the form of chicken noodle soup a couple days later.  And they too, were properly thankful.

 

Zuni Roast Chicken

At Zuni Café in San Francisco, they serve this with a Bread Salad that features arugula, pine nuts, currants and scallions.  It’s beyond delicious and I make it when the spirit moves me, though I usually augment the greens.  One can never get enough leafy greens, don’t you think?  The chicken method yields perfectly cooked moist and flavorful meat every time.  Though with Tadaaki’s chickens, the “flavor” part is a given.  Some of the guests don’t care for the chewy factor, though I find U.S. chicken meat too soft for my taste.  I suppose it’s all about what you’re used to eating.  The best U.S. chicken I ever had so far is Mary’s (despite finding it in the health food store freezer case).

For one small chicken (2-3/4 to 3-1/2 lbs):  Unless you have a fresh plucked bird, rinse chicken and dry well.  Loosen skin around drumsticks and breast.  Gently tuck some herb sprigs into those cavities (fresh thyme, marjoram, rosemary or sage) and salt chicken all over generously (3/4 teaspoon coarse sea salt per lb), put a little inside the body cavity as well.  Grind fresh black pepper over the bird and distribute evenly.  Put in heavy duty Ziploc bag and let sit in fridge for 1 to 3 days.  This will tenderize the meat.  Remove chicken from Ziploc and dry with a clean dishtowel.  Preheat oven to 475F.  Heat a cast iron pan over high heat and pop the bird into the pan, breast side up.  Move pan immediately to the hot oven and bake for 20-25 minutes (depending on size of bird).  Turn bird and roast for another 10-20 minutes (again depending on size of bird).  Turn bird once more, breast side up and crisp breast for 5 minutes.  Remove from oven and let sit for 5 minutes before carving. 

Comments

[preeva tramiel]

Nancy,those pictures of the kids with the chickens look great!
I signed myself up for a chicken-plucking in Pescadero January 23, so I am going to see first-hand what plucking chickens is like!
They don't use the hot-water bath at this place.

[Sarah O'Toole]

The photo of Ibuki plucking feathers with all of his might is priceless!

[Nancy Singleton Hachisu]

Preeva: I was intrigued by your chicken plucking event in Pescadero (wondering if it was at the Harley Goat Farm), but see from my google search you're probably doing it with Hazon. Looks like you're in for an education, but I'm sure you're "woman" enough for the job. Enjoy the holidays with your family.

Sarah: Yes, that was a classic. I wavered between using his or Haruka's photo for the lead, but finally went for overall composition. Also, Ibuki (being the photogenic little imp that he is) has been in the lead photo several times already. I'm bringing "big" Momoka, Shuto Y., Kyo & Haruka T. for the school trip this year. Riku dropped out of the running, we'll miss him, but overall it probably was a good thing. I'm going to have my hands full, though this year, I decided to send them back a day early. I'm really getting too old for this. Matthew is digging in and refusing to go (can you imagine, he doesn't want to miss school). We're in the midst of a big family divide...just in time for Christmas. Enjoy your boys while you have them, it goes fast.

[Naimah]

Wonderful, I love the fact that during the holidays children are learning to appreciate the gift of food and where it comes from.

Naimah
CoolBlackChef.co.uk

[Nancy Singleton Hachisu]

Naimah: Always great to hear your insightful commentary from G.B.. I had a parent conference with one of my mothers in the school today. She has a 7 -year-old graduate and a current 2 year old (the tangerine boy) at SSU!. She is very interested in the Slow Lunch blog and comments there. She shows it to her 2 year old and he explains to her about the lunch he ate--wow! He also told her that "Nancy's lunch" is better than mommy's. She was so amazed because when she changes some small element in the cooking (like using an inferior mirin or soy sauce), her 7-year-old daughter immediately knows and comments. This mother is a college professor and is quite interested in the whole SSU! lunch phenomena, so is fascinated by what we do. Wonderful to see that we're making a small difference in these kids' lives. Ne?

[Process Analyst]

Good to know something new....

[Nancy Singleton Hachisu]

Process Analyst: Definitely. I'm always looking out for what I can learn. I don't necessarily think we need to be really good at these skills, but it's important to stretch ourselves into these unknown (and perhaps uncomfortable) places.