Chicken ≠ Chickens

So recently I was introduced to this amazing television show that, somehow, I totally missed in childhood. It's called Celebrity Deathmatch. Just wanted to let you know.


Anyway,  I just wanted to take a minute today and talk about something I am totally passionate about. And that thing is chickens.

I love chicken. I love eating chicken. I love smelling chicken. I love thinking about chicken. I like the breast, the wing, the thigh, all of it. I like chicken broth, chicken fricassee, chicken kiev, chicken and broccoli, chicken kebabs, and the list goes on.

I also like eggs. Eggs come out of chickens. Eggs are great because you can cook them in so many different ways. I think eggs exist purely to make vegetables sexier. Omelets, quiches, fried eggs, hard boiled eggs, deviled eggs, meringue, baking, battering, casserole-ing, egg noodles, challah bread, whatever, man. It's all good.

What I don't love or care about is chickens. Chickens are dumb. They are birds and they have been bred to be as delicious as possible. I don't care if people keep them in cages. Yeah yeah yeah unsanitary this, unhealthy that and yes, I agree with you there. However, if we could make chicken-caging sanitary and healthy for people then I would be even MORE for it. I would vote my ass off to keep all chickens in cages and make them feed me eggs. Chickens don't care. I'm not sure they really have feelings or think about not being in cages. Plus, sometimes people treat each other worse than they treat chickens in cages. Would you like to know how to say "chicken" in Polish?

If chickens were the dominant species on this planet, don't you think they'd put us in cages? And drink our blood? Don't lie to yourself. As current reigning genetic champions of Earth, we should take full advantage of our superior size and mental capacities over other creatures. It's not like they really know the difference. Are cows and nurse sharks and nematodes really out there in the woods or whatever thinking over the choices they could have made to avoid our merciless polluting grasp? Are they considering innovative methods of competing with us for natural resources? Does a chicken ever stop to ponder the philosophical alternatives? No. They don't. Stop giving money to help save animals because animals can't even save themselves. Consider the ancient Chinese proverb about self-sustainability. Could you teach a chicken to fish? If you think not, then don't give it fish.

Honey

As an adult-like person (proto-adult?) I think I have reached the stage in my life where I develop little hobbies and interests that require research. It would seem that I have chosen honey. Here's a short personal history of honey in my own life.

In childhood whenever I fell ill, my mother would always make me mugs upon mugs of honey tea. Honey tea is easy to make. You heat up water, then pour in lots of honey, stir & sip. Delicious. Also for Rosh Hashana (oh yeah, I'm Jewish by the way) we always eat apples and honey in anticipation of a sweet year.


However, my educational introduction to honey came from a very smart & sexy lady who had worked on a bee farm. She told me all kinds of fun facts about bees. For instance! Did you know that in a bee hive, the worker bees will decide to kill the queen by use of the infamous "cuddle death?" Way cool, right? Anyway, you should go read about bees sometime.

So anyway, now I buy lots of weird kinds of honey.

Hungarian wildflower honey--is has sort of crystallized because of the cold

Lithuanian buckwheat honey

Turkish pine honey

 Okay now this pine honey is pretty freaking amazing. In fact, I took video of how dark, thick and incredible it is.

So USUALLY, the honey you buy at the supermarket is only clover honey. But! Honey can be made from many different kinds of flowers. Next time you're in some kind of alternative/ethnic market (or just a really good big box store--I hate to say this but probably Whole Foods would have a good selection) you should seek out some new variety of honey to try because it's awesome.

A Man After My Own Heart

My friend Liz was reading an older post I had about spiders/roaches/etc and she alerted me to the existence of a hilarious youtube video created by Mr. Chi City who appears to have an entire collection of great homemade vids. This is EXACTLY how I felt about killing the spider. He is hysterical:

I also highly recommend his other video that is about DRINKS!!!! Though not necessarily drinks with dinner. I died laughing when he talks about the snapple. I am guilty as charged.

Dear Mr. Chi City,

You and I have much to discuss.

Sincerely,
Mackenzie

Face It

Face masks are a popular item here at Chez Wilson. Having just recently been discharged from a soap/cosmetic/beauty store, I am now a fanatic believer in the benefits of slathering gunk all over my face. Especially if that gunk is 100% vegan and non-animal tested. Smearing layers of plant byproduct on my face is great for two reasons. First, it just feels good. It's like being a kid all over again getting to play with "icky" things. Two, I think it makes my skin nicer?

So my dear friend Dave was visiting me for a week and I had just gotten a NEW face mask variety. Being a boy, Dave has been denied many of the pleasures of excessive self-love in the cosmetic department. I categorically insisted that he do a face mask with me and I think even he will attest that it was A) fun and B) it felt good. Observe:

Is the joy not palpable? I have recently fully embraced my female-ness which, many of your smart cookies may know, is a challenging process since female-hood is so often confused and "rewarded" with the unsatisfying gifts of "girliness." In any event, face masks are fun because they kind of make you look like a zombie. 

Vegetables Of Note

Like others in this world, I have an acute fascination with plant matter that has grown into humorous shapes. I recently discovered the cutest potato in the world. He is the cutest potato in the world because he is in love.

When I see shaped-funny produce, I experience a type of euphoria that is probably genetically linked to mankind’s fondness for miniature animals. I point. I jump up and down a little. I say things like, "Ohhhhh! Potaaaaaaaaaay-to!"

I was reflecting back on this potato today (I have already eaten him— skins and all) and realized that it would probably be beneficial to the world to start a general tally/photo gallery of curious vegetables. I am calling the project “Vegetables of Note.” Naturally, then, I searched my hardrive for other photos of vegetation that I have found interesting over the years. My "Tim Burton-esque" onion caught my attention:

Is it just me or are they hypnotically purple? Perhaps this isn't Tim Burton-y at all but convex-concave explorations of weeping edibles makes me think of him. Also, one time I bought hot peppers and I thought they were cute because they were good at hugging.

And of course, an exploration of odd vegetables wouldn't be complete without this picture of a fun trip to the thrift store:

And there you have it. Vegetables of Note.

Merry Streptococchristmas!!

I work at a soap/beauty/lotion store. As such, I am required to demonstrate any and all products ONTO my customers while saying encouraging things to them like, "This is SO good for you." Or, "Really, this is SOOO good for you."

Ergo (therefore) I am constantly touching people. It is winter, a month notorious for illness. Massaging every person to walk through our store during this heightened time of germ-trafficking may seem like a dangerous job and actually, you're right. It is. But somebody has to move that product, lest the children begin to suspect that there is no Santa Claus. 

Not surprisingly then, I fell ill on Christmas day.


Christmas Eve, however, was a helluva time. Myself and my Persian friend enjoyed a decidedly unchristian gluten-free meal while babysitting some sick rats. We watched about 20 minutes of Doctor Zhivago (starring Omar Sharif--oh my god what a babe, in fact let's take a pause here for a moment

--okay thank you.) we drank about 30 cups of tea between the two of us, and discussed the finer points of sex and sexuality until we fell asleep. All in all, a grand holiday. The next morning, however, I woke up feeling like my throat was full of garbage and a bit delirious with a fever. I took a cab home and proceeded to NyQuil myself into the land of Nod but not before creating a slew of rather bizarre "holiday" cards for my friends.


The next day I was feeling monumentally better and decided to cook a whole chicken that I had been saving for Christmas. But, now, woefully, Christmas had come and gone and my only memory of the day was being strung out on NyQuil and watching the pilot episode of Lost.

But who cares?!! I manically reassured myself on a wave of post-illness enthusiasm. For all I care today is Christmas all over again! To the kitchens with you, carcass of fowl!!!! And now I would like to share with you Mackenzie's recipe for TOO MUCH Soup.


TOO MUCH Soup

1 whole chicken
big ass pots
1 red onion
garlic cloves until you are crying
blatant disregard for internet recipes
potatoes
a desire to simultaneously make fried chicken
oil
salt
pepper
flour
sugar
coriander
oregano
frozen peas


The first step is to google something similar to this recipe, read half of the first paragraph and then simply forge ahead. Watching muted youtube videos that seem related to what you are doing is also a good idea:

Once you've gotten half way through making TOO MUCH Soup, you should try it and see how it tastes. If it doesn't taste the way you want, just add more pepper. If it tastes exactly perfect, add a dash more pepper and serve hot.

Pestilence

I just killed 6 cockroaches. With poison. It didn't make me feel good the way it should have.

Maybe killing things is overrated. According to all the James Bond movies I've seen and a wide assortment of TV shows and other media sources I am addicted to, killing things is easy, fun and exciting. But in the world of insects, it's actually very upsetting. This doesn't make sense because I'm like 4000x larger than most insects and they are fundamentally stupid, worthless and unwanted.

Okay a good for-instance is spiders. Gross, right? Yeah whatever they eat mosquitos but like...not in my house, okay? Get the fuck out. Do that outside. Lately, though, I've had this growing fear that there is an afterlife. And that this afterlife is ruled by spiders. What if that were true? I wouldn't want to kill spiders in my current life, you know? Then I would be severely punished -- for *eternity* -- BY SPIDERS. This frightens me and so I have stopped killing spiders because I can't handle the potential infinite exposure to 8 legs, hairy bodies and multiple roving, unfocused black eyes.

I did make an exception the other day though when THE BIGGEST SPIDER OF YOUR LIFE broke into my house and was just chilling out next to my bed. [Those weak of heart, beware the pictures below]

I stalk you gently, human. Practiced stillness yields not a limb to quiver.

Of course, killing this spider took an enormous amount of bravery, focus, and a heavy shoe. I was literally squealing with fear even as I towered like the world-dominating mammal that I am over this large-for-its-species-but-still-relatively-small creature. After I killed it, I had to quietly scream for a short while and dance around my house. Sadly for me, this particular insect had a twin brother that came looking for its brethren the following evening.

"Is tha--? SON OF A BITCH."

"AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIY!!"

Cockroaches are a different matter. I have no qualms about killing them but they kind of ruin my day, you know? It's like "Oh! I think I'll make some peanut butter cookies tonight" No. No you won't. You will discover an intimate get-together of cockroaches enjoying a sort of coffee-date around a stain on the counter top and have to top them off with a healthy dose of Raid.

Aaaaaaand peanut butter cookies no longer seem desirable. In fact, nothing does. Eating seems like a remote, impossible thing that isn't even worth thinking about.