“Ew, You Eat Chicken Feet?!” Exclaims White Woman Pouring Pasta Sauce on Unwashed Counter
June 28, 2021
‘Exotic foods just make me a little queasy’
By: Grant Yang
Two minutes into the neighborhood potluck, Providence native Bella Yung already realized she had made a mistake in coming when she noticed the kitchen island had only ingredients on it. After being greeted by local Caucasian Carolynn Lynn, Yung made her way to the island to place her potluck contribution, a fresh dish of braised chicken feet. “Oh no no, that counter is reserved for my spaghetti. Finished dishes go in the dining room,” Lynn intercepted before opening the lid of the traditional Chinese delicacy, “Oh, that’s so sweet! You brought some treats for the dogs! I’ll go get Pompeii and Garlic.”
After Yung explained that the dish was for humans, Lynn quickly upturned her nose. “Ew, you eat chicken feet?! No offense to your culture Bella, but exotic foods like that just make me a little queasy,” Lynn related before pouring out a bottle of Prego Meat Flavored Pasta Sauce directly onto the marble countertop, “I guess you could call me a picky eater.” As she spread the sauce outward, it soaked in the crumbs on the counter from previous dinners, and blended in with the red streaks that were clearly left over from when she did this before.
“This is my mother’s recipe, actually,” Yung replied, “she taught me how to cook chicken feet growing up because it was her favorite childhood treat back in Shanghai.”
“That’s nice of her, but why eat the feet of the chicken? Isn’t that a little barbaric?” Lynn asked while dumping a potful of boiled spaghetti on top of the sauce, “I just don’t understand why Asians don’t just eat the normal parts of animals. It’s more hygienic.” Lynn then began to massage the pasta and sauce together with her bare hands all over the counter, making sure to incorporate the dried coffee rings and rust from the kitchen sink. When she removed her hands from the pasta, Yung noticed that the 3 rings and “CoeXisT” bracelet Lynn had been wearing had disappeared.
“Sometimes your hands just don’t get the job done,” Lynn said as she started shoveling handfuls of pasta into her mouth, swishing the mixture around, and then spitting it back out on top, “aren’t you glad you get to witness civilized cooking?”
Lynn garnished the spaghetti with a handful of nothing and a few sprigs of air. It was a hit.
