A Word On Food: Nana’s Hands

I came home from the store. I had bought a chicken that had been cooked on a rotisserie and was still nearly molten hot. I put away our other groceries and automatically set up a little area by the kitchen sink, which looks out over our yard. I wanted to act pretty fast because I wanted to shred this chicken. When the meat is still very warm you can do that and tear the meat along its own natural lines. This makes it so much more tender to eat than just chopping through the protein with the sharp steel of a knife. I advise this whenever you can. It was quiet and I was to myself in the house. As I worked … I thought of my Nana. How many times I watched her work in just such a way. She was Scotch-Irish and thus so am I for the most part. She was born in New York City just before the turn of the 20th century and lived a good early life that included knowing people like Buster Keaton and Al Jolson. There are many stories she shared. I’m certain more than anyone it was Nana that gave me the love of words. In the kitchen she had a tolerance for hot water that defied credulity. She would plunge her hands into a sink full of dishes with a water temperature most of us could not tolerate. I think in her upbringing it was dramatically instilled in her to kill any form of bacteria. For her this was not an act of pain but prudence. 

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Now it’s time to hit the ‘Listen on WLRN’ button at the top to hear the remainder of my show. ‘A Word On Food’ airs on WLRN every Saturday around 8:30 a.m. at 91.3 and also 91.5 on the radio. I want to thank so many of you who tell me in person how much you are enjoying the show!