16 April, 2014

oh, live chicken!

c and i had a study date today, finishing the least pleasant of this year's assignments. he suggested we meet at a recently opened establishment called olive chicken. it had good online reviews but i wasn't leaving the house today (snow. more snow. snowing all day. i mean, i know this is alberta, but come ON! if i cared about weather, i would be livid. luckily i a. don't care and b. realise the very limited benefits of meteorologically-inspired lividity*) where were we? oh. yes. chicken. so i asked c to pick us up a take out order and hot damn! it was SO SO so so sososososososo so good. i am not generally a fried chicken fan, and will not ever eat the skin because ew, but in this case i caved and carnivorously consumed every crumb and crease (huh? yet another example of the failure of alliteration!). this is korean fried chicken and it's covered in a sticky gooey spicy gingery sweet hot chilli sauce that deserves more than these seven measly adjectives, and soon i had all those adjectives all over my nose, cheeks, fingers and likely elbows. it. was. good.

the restaurant must surely be a front for some sort of crack-based business because i have not been able to stop thinking about the chicken. i want more. i want some right now. right this second. as i type this, i am salivating uncontrollably at the thought of getting my hands on some more olive chicken**.

i'd just finished telling my fabulous roommate and the newly arrived mr. monkey about the chicken experience. i got so excited i got a little addled:

moi: it's SO good! it's fried chicken! it's chicken on the inside and fried on the outside!

mfr & mr. m:

moi: sometimes i amaze myself.


* yes, i realise that's not what this word means, but you know what i mean, so shut it.

** no olives*** on the menu. inexplicable. pickled daikon, though, is readily available and refreshingly delicious!

*** mfr came up with the name "o, live chicken!" which is slightly more appropriate in that it acknowledges the absence of olives, but simultaneously egregiously fails to acknowledge the death of the chicken.


p.s. final push. final push, my pretties. once this hateful pile of unpalatable donkey dung (wait, is there palatable donkey dung? i suppose for some species there is… no judgment) is finished, i can start my heart's work, i.e. compiling and editing the 40 or so page document that is our final project, which, by the way, we successfully presented yesterday. wanna see? here:


6 comments:

Tom said...

Loved the pictures! I really did; both of the document and of you. But where, where, is a there a picture of the chicken? No not the Polish one, the edible one. You may be edible for all I know, but you get my drift, surely.

Excitement.....longing.....unrequited taste bud experience. Oh cruel Agnieszka!

polish chick said...

wait, are you calling me chicken?

if you follow the link to the restaurant website, you will be treated to crappy photography, poor website design and the picture of the chicken you so deeply desire.

Zhoen said...

Nothing like a lovely meal in the midst of chaos to keep one going just that little bit more.

Mine was chili chicken at New Taste of Asia, now sadly closed.

Tom said...

Now would I ever call you "chicken"? Went to the website and discovered olive chicken which looks remarkably like something we ate in a local Chinese restaurant, and that was b----y gorgeous....ahem! Gave me burps for quite a while afterwards though.

polish chick said...

now tom, i must clarify - i've had chicken of similar looks at chinese restaurants and it rarely ended well. this is a whole new ballgame. this here is a perfect fried chicken: not greasy, crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside, and then covered in the lip-smacking sauce which somehow, miraculously, DOES NOT take away from the crispiness! what magic is this?!

burps, though? yeah. that's a common side-effect i'm told.

and if *i* wasn't the polish chicken in the photo, then who, pray tell, was?

Tom said...

Well as the song says:

"It had to be you-u-u (tum tiddly tum)
It had to be you-u-u.....(tiddly tumpty tumpty too)