On Taking (or Ignoring) Food Advice

Don’t you get tired of some of the so-called news that bombards us every day? Most of us, I’d be willing to bet, don’t pay much attention to all of the nutritional about-faces anymore, but sometimes a statement will reach out and grab you. Take for example a tidbit I heard on TV a few weeks back: Don’t wash that chicken before cooking it. Yep, just take it out of the package and cook the sucker! According to the doctor who recommended not rinsing, all the chicken bacteria will end up covering all the surfaces in your kitchen if you rinse. Hmm, you mean with the cat spit (supposedly cat saliva ends up there too—we no longer have cats) and tobacco smoke (no, we don’t smoke either)?

I usually buy whole chickens from Draper Valley, locally-grown supposedly all natural birds advertised as “Fresh Northwest grown chicken raised without Antibiotics, No Added Hormones, No Preservatives . . . Ever!” I cut them up myself (a skill Sam taught me many years ago), since that’s more cost-effective than buying pre-packaged cut-up chicken parts, and then I store the packaged pieces in the freezer until I’m ready to use them. One chicken will yield two breasts, one package of two thighs and tenders, one package of meat to be boiled (includes the backs, wings, and thighs, etc.) for sandwiches, salad or stew, and various pieces I feed off to Roxi after boning them out. Roxi loves it when I cut up a chicken; it’s sort of like doggie Christmas. Until recently, these chickens also included a packet of giblets tucked inside the body cavity—those disappeared sometime this spring. Sorry puppy dog! No more necks, gizzards, hearts, or livers—I guess Draper decided to make a few extra bucks on those, so you’re out of luck.

It’s been many years since I’ve bought chickens shipped here from the Deep South, even though they are cheaper. What got me buying local birds, aside from the fact that they are fresher, was reading an article stating that chickens from Arkansas were “washed down” with formaldehyde when they got a bit close to their expiration date. I don’t know how true that statement is, since those chickens are shipped frozen in refrigerated trucks, but the thought of it made me not want to chance it. Buying local birds seemed a better bet anyway, because that supports our local economy. Local food may not be available year round in all cases, but it is always fresher and tastes better because those varieties don’t have to ship thousands of miles and can be harvested when nearly ripe, unlike the stuff from Chile.

One thing the Draper chickens lack is an American Humane Society (HSUS) label—yes, you can apparently buy humanely raised chickens somewhere nowadays, though I haven’t seen any for sale at my local QFC. I haven’t poked around the freezer bin extensively, so I can’t swear they aren’t there. What the Humane Society label means is the chickens aren’t packed in three to a cage, de-beaked, and force-fed until they’re ready for market. Humanely raised chickens are cage-free and actually have the possibility of going outside if they want (though in reality that possibility is slight to non-existent).

So back to not rinsing the chickens: I do it to remove any lurking salmonella or other offensive bacteria and for my own peace of mind. I’m not planning on licking my walls or counter tops anytime soon, and yes, I also wash those things on a regular basis. I was so grossed out by the idea of not rinsing my chickens anymore, that I decided I will continue to do it—sorry Doc! You may be an expert, but common sense overrules you!