Wednesday, July 1, 2009


It started out a pale, cold and unattractive carcass but I coaxed it into a tasty meal.

Inventiveness is a necessity in my home when it comes to mealtime. First off the husband contributes nothing along the means of ideas for foods because if he had his way he would pretty much be happy with the same list of options on the menu forever.

To spice up his days he wants to go out to the drive-through for an $0.89 chicken taco. A double cheeseburger and fries are next in line and you can't go wrong with buffet Chinese.

My contributions to our household are meager, at least in the financial area. I do not work, my physical, emotional and mental health keep me from sustaining long term employment. Perhaps even if I did gain employment I would probably be released quickly for insubordination, to Hell with anyone telling me what to do or not to do!

Since THIS is my job (Domestic Goddess) I am left feeling strained, discomforted, easily bruised and under extreme pressure because I do not have assistants. Sure, yes I recognize this is ridiculous and that other house-frau just go on about their lives and have the same household struggles but they have outlets for their frustrations and creativity.

Not only is my creativity IN domesticity but it is also my chore. I don't have anything or anywhere else to funnel this deluge of zeal.

I'm pushed to achieve (by myself) and I only expect to fail. Therefore I put so many expectations into my concoctions...

which brings me to the insatiable.

the bird, the tasty bird.

I've given you a cool bath, turning the faucet on low and the pressure just quick enough that a rush of water runs over my fingers sluicing away the packaged juices. My fingers enter your cavity, extracting a neck and some globulous fat that I tear and discard to a dish for the beggars waiting at my feet.

Out I pull you from the pool and give you a gentle slap and hang you upside down, letting any final droplets dribble out before I lay you onto the cutting board.

Now the question is, how shall I prepare you? He doesn't care, I could just hack you to bits and then toss every boneless piece in a pan and then put into tortillas with lettuce/onion/cheese for instant home-prepared chicken-taco's. (he's certain to have a stash of TacoBell sauce hiding around here somewhere)

Let's go along that theme though and give you that south of the border hint of flavor.

With the gentle hand of a lover, I lavish cumin, paprika, cayenne, ancho and chipotle into flesh and under the skin. Taking handfuls of fresh pico da gallo and with my fingers, lift the skin from the breast and insert in-between. Stuffing into her chest cavity as well and then place her into a bath of chicken stock flavored with additional spices and fresh cracked pepper!

You will simmer, as if you are in a hot tub - relaxing my darling; because soon you will be shredded to bits and I will treat you like the puta you are!

my stomach growls and our hunger grows.

Dinner waits and my need to gratify is insatiable.