McKenna Fish

That one kind of chicken

For as long as I can remember, I have always loved this one kind of chicken my mom made while I was growing up. I’ve been a picky eater from the time I was little and I mean picky as in I disliked everything. Certain sauces and seasonings were unwelcomed by my tastebuds and this incredible embarrassing trait has stuck with me through adulthood. My mom used to make this incredible good chicken and although I couldn’t tell ya what was in it at the time, I knew it was good and I liked it. So on special occasions and holidays I’d ask ‘mom, will you make the chicken?!’ And the answer was usually yes. I think I was around 14 when I started helping make this incredible chicken that made my tastebuds water and from that day on, my life would be changed. After buying the chicken breast at the store, we get a big bowl to mash up 2 stacks of ritz crackers and a half cup of Parmesan cheese. (That was always my job) once it was a good, smooth texture, we would dip the chicken in Mayo.... wait.... Mayo?! 14 year old me was appalled that my mother would secretly feed me Mayo! She knew I hated Mayo and would refuse to eat it at any other meal!!! I remember that my whole entire view of my mom changed and all of a sudden the trust was broken. That night at dinner, I didn’t touch my chicken. I couldn’t stand the idea that there was secret Mayo hidden in there! Until my tummy started growling and I reminded myself that it was still my favorite chicken and maybe tasting it to double check wouldn’t kill me. One bite in and I had forgotten my hatred for Mayo and remembered how much I loved my mother for providing me with such good chicken. From that day on, I remembered that dinner and it has helped me expand my pallet when it comes to foods. Although I still do consider myself picky, I like to remember the chicken that changed the way I view food and reminded me to taste things before deciding I hate them. In a way, the chicken changed my life in the smallest but a very unique way. I now make that chicken for my family and friends and my mother when I go to visit her. It’s crazy to me how the smallest things make such a different in the mind of a young child.