"IT STRIKES" Again: Where's the chicken in my packet of chicken gravy?

[The following story was first published in THE LONDONER in Feb., 2003. It is repeated here so that you can enjoy it again and again. I'm still looking for the chicken. gah]

Where's the chicken in my packet of chicken gravy?

On Tupperware Fridays you will find me gazing into the fridge, thoughtfully scanning its contents, hands busy with judicious sorting.

I gladly do the cooking a few days each week. I get to shop, chop, slice, dice, boil or bake. I am allowed to play with sharp knives in a safe, controlled environment and use as much PC Szechwan Spicy Peanut Satay Sauce as I want. When the meal involves driving to Harvey's for a healthy dose of cheeseburgers I'' happily raise my hand and volunteer.

Except on Fridays.

On that day I sift through the leftovers preserved in plastic containers (including Tupperware from many a party in the 1970s), and arrange choices on the counter that would go well together. This instinct to hunt and gather is alive and well in the Harrison family. Several exciting new recipes have been developed over the last few months that have caused my wife to exclaim, "Gee, what is this?"

Last Friday, because I could only spot one serving of Pat's goulash (the best in town) I settled on combining leftover chicken ("Smells okay to me."), baked potatoes ("Still seem fresh.") and steamed veggies (Hey, can't go wrong.") after popping 16 plastic lids. Because I've overused the PC Szechwan Spicy Peanut Satay Sauce in the past I searched for gravy.


["Yeh, this looks awesome."]

I poked my finger into two squishy substances that appeared gravy-like but were probably cranberry jelly or pea soup. After other samples failed the taste and texture test I turned to the cupboard above the stove. Before long I found a packet of hot chicken gravy mix.

The picture of a hot chicken sandwich smothered in two cups of creamy gravy with a side of crisp vegetables had me sold almost instantly. If I could understand easily the 'mode d'emploi' I would be off to the races. I could and I was. Soon I had everything under control. Gravy was simmering, potatoes were re-heating, veggies were steaming and chicken was sizzling in soy sauce. I leaned back and admired my handiwork.

Then my eyes wandered to the list of ingredients on the empty gravy mix pouch. (I regularly examine ingredients in packaged foods to see if I recognize anything from my high school chemistry class.) There were a couple of interesting entries on the back of the pouch.

'Wheat flour, modified cornstarch, hydrolyzed corn, soy and wheat protein, salt, potato starch, yeast extract, soybean and cottonseed oil shortening, beef fat, onion powder, spice, flavour, caramel colour, disodium inosinate and guanylate,'

Anything pique your interest?

I noticed that chicken wasn't listed. Yet I looked closely at the picture on the pouch and there appears to be a chicken beak poking out from under a slice of bread. Somebody missed it.

Have you ever wondered what part of a cow tastes most like chicken? The answer is beef fat. I'm not sure what chicken fat tastes like but it flunked someone else's taste and texture test. The cow wins.

The 12th ingredient is 'flavour'. When I close my eyes and think of 'flavour' I see a large guy in a white shirt (sleeves rolled up past the elbows) telling the sweeper at a chemical plant not to throw out anything. Then they throw their heads back and laugh.

The last two items sound scary enough to keep me simmering the gravy for 20 extra minutes so I'm sure it's really done.

Supper's ready!

gah

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