A person who is a connoisseur of good food is known as a gourmand.
Imagine the look of astonishment on the lady of the manor’s face when she learned pigs are not the only country critters who eat everything. Pigs deserve their names.
The other day, the Funny Farm folks had a flash of enlightenment. It seems we are the proud owners of gourmand chickens. Admittedly, our flock eats everything we present to them.
What we mean by the term “present” is we offer them scraps along with their regular food and treats. However, the act of presentation is more of a tossing rather than serving them goodies on a silver platter.
Our chickens work themselves into a tizzy when they see us walking toward them with the scrap bowl. They tend to get excited anytime we head their way because they assume we bring them something they can gobble up.
The reason our chickens are gourmands is the variety of extras we toss their way. You ought to see them attack melons, various types of squash, okra and other vegetables from our garden. Those cluckers act like they have not eaten in a week instead of a couple of minutes. Not to be unkind, but they are feathered piggies.
When it comes to food, the inhabitants of the Funny Farm have eclectic tastes. The lady of the manor is Hungarian by birth and enjoys cooking the foods her mother cooked. She also loves to experiment; the meals may include down-home foods like fried okra, red beans, and cornbread or Indian, Japanese, Italian, German or Mexican.
Of course, the lady of the manor still has difficulty cooking for two and often ends up with enough food for an army battalion. Consequently, the chickens get the scraps. Is it any wonder they have come to expect a unique variety in their diet as well.
In the early years of our marriage when we would go out to eat, we could do significant damage at an all you can eat restaurant. However, somewhere along the way we changed, and can no longer eat large meals.
Of course, the restaurants are not aware of our diminished appetites and still prepare massive amounts of food. For example, at our favorite German restaurant Hubby ordered Wienerschnitzel. When his meal arrived, the meat covered the entire plate and hung off about three or four inches on either side. Hubby took one look at the enormous portion and declared he could not eat all that and would need a take-home container.
For quite some time when we eat out, the take-home container has become the norm rather than the exception. Perhaps we are odd ducks, but we rarely eat the food we toted home. After a day or so, the chickens are the happy beneficiaries of all the excess food. So far, we have not heard a complaining peep or cluck from any of the feathered critters.
Just as we enjoy cooking and eating the cuisine of many countries, we love the adventure of going to a new or an old favorite eating place.
In the past several weeks, we found a terrific, non-chain, Mexican restaurant. A few days later, while exploring an over-priced holiday decoration superstore, we stumbled upon a Korean restaurant we could not pass up. Again, the food was not only different from our usual fare, but delicious as well. As was the case with other recent restaurant visits the ubiquitous take-home carton appeared in our hands when we left.
By the way, the holiday store had Christmas trees made from antlers as well as more or less realistic looking trees priced in the five figures. The problem was the appearance of the pricey trees did not look that real.
Getting back to the unfinished restaurant foods, with the international cuisine they eat our chickens have become discerning eaters.
“I wonder if chickens would eat a body?” the lady mused.
“Probably not, but a pig could,” her son replied.
“Drat! I’ll have to change the setting of my murder mystery to a pig farm to dispose of the bodies.”