Regulations... sometimes work, sometimes not. I had chicken over the weekend, a huuuge chicken booby

Yup, sounds ridiculous in the extreme.

And the term comes from a cousin who was about five or so and screamed over the balconies in our block to a Scottish gentleman... 'HEY, Mr. P!.. Come on over, we're having chicken boobies!'

By which she meant chicken breasts.

I thought my neighbor was gonna piss himself laughing, was a witness to the 'indiscretion'.

(smile)

So big deal, I had chicken over the weekend. It's something you would put on Facebook...

Except there is more to it.

For over a year, thanks to being clinically depressed, I just go to the supermarket next door, and twice got a bit of chicken which in local jargon would be described as a 'rubber eagle', which sums up the texture and flavourlessness of the product.

So I didn't buy any for a long time.

And had a hankering for the good old days, so I went to the market, which is about 100 yards further down the square, which is about three football fields long. And of course, I went to the people I KNOW have the best chicken EVAH. I eat very little nowadays, so I only wanted a bit.

I believe the lady who was out there every weekend has passed on. She must have been stunningly beautiful when young, but was strikingly beautiful in age. It came from within. Now one of her sons is there.

And he pulled out a chicken booby that was breath-taking. They come from the Sulmtal. And are free-range, and fed correctly. So I roasted it. It was a full pound. And I had an orgasmic experience in my mouf. I'd fully forgotten what good chicken tastes like.

And had more than enough for the entire weekend.

So yeah, I can hear you say, what's RenB going ON about, good for him, he had a nice two meals.

The people at the market are real farmers... they sell their produce, and if there isn't enough for a weeks demand... you are so out of luck. The EU regulates the conditions under which they can produce their products, and are extremely strict. What you get in the supermarket is mostly under the radar... passable, but not quality. And the price is about the same.

So for all the tea-party people... government regulations often provide much quality and safety in what is sold for you to eat. And not be poisoned.

I used to have laughing fits over terms newly coined, like Bodenhaltung. Which means free-range chickens. But if you take the word literally, it means, 'holding on the ground', which brought up hilarious images in my sick head of farmers flinging themselves about and holding their chickens on the ground. I used to have Thurberesque 'flights of fancy' in my noggin...

Which brings me back to buying at the market. Fresh produce from people who work their ass off year in and out to make something so good, you will only buy it from them. And are out there in all sorts of weather day in, day out.

And it works, on principle. If Gawwd had wanted us to have strawberries in December, they probably would have grown then. I think there is a reason why certain foods grow at the time they do, and will be good for you. I do not think that it is sane to buy things that are not grown where you live, or in season, just because it gets imported and it's there. I never did that.

And THAT is what preserves are for. I got to be really good at it. Peter buying junk crap stuff at a huge percent upgrade, because, boy... diabetics really get screwed for prices for 'safe' compote, or jam, or cookies or gawwwd knows what else.

I put a stop to it. I learned how to put up glasses of preserves without the dire additives and at a third of the cost. The farmers did their thing, I did mine. Beginning in Spring. Fruits, vegetables, sauces.... by late Fall, there were over one hundred glasses waiting to be opened.

I had to hide a couple of the cherry ones so I could do the Easter ham. I made a KILLER cherry relish for baked ham... made some friends of Peter's speechless.

I would not touch produce from a supermarket. For Peter.

Lately, haven't cared what I eat.

But the chicken? It reminded me of what can really be good. And it is because of regulations, and a memory. My cousins visiting yet again. I served chicken from the Sulmtal. I can't remember what recipe.

But there was a 'sotto voce' comment from L. to her husband: 'WHY can't we GET chicken like this any more?'

Deregulation. People cut corners, sell shit.

Because no one is looking over their shoulder. And you get tasteless rubber eagles.

And the whole problem begins with that sort of thing.