Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Raw Chicken Dare

If you know me, either in real life or here on my blog, you know that I fear raw chicken. I’ve talked about it briefly here and here. The terror of the raw, slimy, salmonella-growing flesh has been known to paralyze me in ways that I am shameful to admit.

Like the time I refused to cook chicken and only used the precooked chicken strips found in the refrigerator section of Costco. And by “time,” I mean the two years.

Embarrassing, I know.

I figured if I am really going to do this and not fall of the wagon into a bag of Costco precooked chicken strips, maybe I should write about it. And then I remembered my friend Elizabeth at Flourish in Progress and the gang she was starting. She started a project about not shopping for an entire year and blogged about the whole thing. If you are not reading her blog, I suggest you click on over and start immediately because She. Is. Awesome. Seriously, awesome.

Anyway, her gang is about getting over a fear or a personal obstacle. So I am going to start a little project, and by little I mean getting over one of the biggest fears I have and documenting it so I can’t quit. And I think my gang name should be Raw Chicken. If that doesn’t sound like a scary badass kind of gang name, then I don’t know what is, right?

So here is an update: after our Disney adventure, we were in need of some serious nourishment. We needed chicken of the non-nugget variety, whole wheat pasta, and a green vegetable STAT! So I approached the butcher counter and looked at the nice, trimmed up chicken breasts that were a fortune or the ones that were in a pile that needed to be trimmed but were on special. My eyes darted between my two choices and my thoughts raced: we need chicken. We just spent a ton of money at Disney. I don’t want to trim them. I must trim them if we are going to start recouping any cost from our trip.

In a magical moment, my need for nutrition and to save money preceded my fear of raw chicken.

So I bought a separate cutting board and got to work.

I separated the breasts.

I trimmed them.

I cut them in half to make them thinner.*

I baked them to perfection.

When I went to the store this week to get chicken, it didn’t even make my heart race. I am on the road to recovery, Friends!

I *will* have cleaned and cooked a whole chicken by December 2011.

I am curious . . .what kind of goals are you working towards?

*I had the best picture of this, but due to technical difficulties, they will have to be in a future post.


Elizabeth-Flourish in Progress said...

Congrats on getting over your fear, mama! I still haven't achieved mastery over raw chicken, so this, my friend, is a BIG DEAL!!

Christina S. said...

Good job! Before you know it, you'll be an old pro!

Carrie - Cannibalistic Nerd said...

I have this same issue. I eat chicken but my husband doesn't, so I never cook it. When I was helping my sister make baked chicken a few months ago I think I washed my hands about 5 times. Once between every piece I touched. It took a while.

Mommy on the Spot said...

Elizabeth, thanks so much!

Mommy on the Spot said...

Christina, I hope you're right!

Mommy on the Spot said...

Carrie, only five times?! Just joking. Or maybe not. :)

Amy said...

Ick, I hate raw chicken too. blah!

I spend the extra money sometimes to get the nicely prepared cleaned chicken breasts so I don't have to touch that filth either. But you're right...gets pricey!

I applaud your goal of cleaning and cutting up a whole chicken...I would sooner gauge out my eyeballs. I couldn't even dissect an earthworm in high school! Seeing something's inner parts just grosses me out. I realize this is a ridiculous phobia.