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« Farewell blue Sunday | Main | Get it in writing »

Jan 27, 2011


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I prefer the dark meat, especially on the grill. I tend to dry out breat meat.

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The thigh is actually a pretty meaty part of the bird. Being raised in a large family, my dad was always fending me off from the breasts and the biscuits so I learned to love the thigh!

"Jeffrey, put half of that back," was his refrain. And guard the biscuits ...

Andrew Brod

I've never understood how anyone can prefer the breast to the thigh. I almost never have chicken in restaurants because the offering is generally a dried-up breast with some sauce on it. If dried-up food is what I want, I can do that myself at home.


I was raised on drumsticks and thighs, but you now have a whole generation of people who are only familiar with boneless, skinless breasts and probably can't even name the part of the body the meat came from.


If you can follow directions, here is a recipe for the most delicious of chicken breasts. It's my new favorite: Chicken Chausseur*

(*Calls for bone-in breasts, but I use boneless. I don't keep Vermouth on hand either, Chardonnay will suffice; but I'll bet it's better with Vermouth.)


Anyone know why drumsticks cost 10 cents more per pound than thighs? Sale price or not - same differential. I've asked several people at the local Food Lion, and they didn't know.


Probably because they are more popular, so they can.

Andrew Brod

Roch, I'll bet it's better with thighs as well.

The irony is that the recipe says it "harks back to a time when game birds and mushrooms from the woods were a natural autumn combination." Game birds have no white meat.


True, dat.

David Wharton

An annual (and perennial) Thanksgiving problem at our house: everybody wants dark meat. Since I carve the turkey, I make sure I get mine before it reaches the table. White meat is tolerated only with big dollops of gravy.


I like it all. White meat, dark meat, it doesn't matter. Boneless chicken deprives you of the pleasure of gnawing those last few morsels off the bone.

My sister and I used to fight over who got the gizzard.

Andrew Brod

A few times my mother solved the problem at Thanksgiving by cooking goose instead of turkey. The goose was dark and savory, and like all game birds it made a lot of gravy. My mouth is watering as I type this, remembering my mother's German take on the stuffing: pumpernickel, carroway, and sauerkraut.

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