by Caleb McBee, Food & Drink Editor

Today was market day in our little town of Bra, in Piedmont a bit south of Turin.  My family and I’ve been blessed with a  flat in prime location for the outdoor market and today was typical:  Bustling noises down the alley, old women with purple perms pulling carts spilling over with produce, old men riding bikes so slow you wonder if they can balance in place.  Since it had been nice and sunny out I decided to make a chicken salad.  I walked down to a butcher stall and ordered a gallina, which is an older laying hen about a year and a half to two years old, quite fatty, a bit tough, and perfect for stock.  So I thought, why not make stock use the slow cooked meat for the salad?

Apart from being plucked and the intestines removed, you can usually always guarantee that you’ll be given the complete chicken.  The woman asked if I wanted it cleaned.  I took her offer.  She did the typical chop-chop of the head and feet, wrapped them up, then cut the esophagus and removed the remaining offal.  She let out a little giggle and said, “Ah uova  fresce,” and pulled out a yellow fatty blob.  She wiped off some of the fat and revealed the unlaid egg.

As she began to pack up my bird, I couldn’t take my eyes off the egg.  A sensation of disgust, then interest, kind of queasy, then excited.  She packed up my bird, head and feet, then carefully wrapped my egg in a paper towel and nestled it in the bag.  I had butterflies as I carried my parcel home, knowing that when i got there I’d have to deal with that egg.  I was thinking about the fact that this bird was killed with egg just going about her daily duty.  The little circle ended in one go.  But why was I grossed out by this?  Surely this must happen more often than we think.  So what, chickens lay eggs and we eat them, then we eat the bird.  When separated and clean we think nothing of it.  But open up a bird and find the egg inside and something strikes a nerve (mine anyway).  I even spent  some time in a slaughterhouse recently, discussing offal cuts with the butcher as he poked and prodded a large hanging mass of innards.  You realize more and more the reality of your actions and the often grotesque sacrifice carried out to sustain your life, or to just give you a good meal.

As I thought about this, I considered the fact that i was even able to find a chicken mature enough for this to happen.  Although eating mature animals on some parts of the globe is still fairly common, in the US and other industrialized nations, the modern food system has altered this.  In the past, and still in some cases today, to a dynamic farmer the value of the chicken for its eggs and insect control is too great to be used up by a young kill.  The same goes for other livestock and their contributions to the farm system.  Since agribusiness is not holistic it looks only at the cost of their production, the faster and animal reaches its technical slaughter weight, the less money they have to spend on feed and shelter.  The current industrial standard for age of slaughter for a chicken is around 49 days.  As recently as the early 70s, consumers were aware that young industrial birds were flavorless and the industry injected flavored brine into the meat to make up for it.  Even with these additives, over the last 40 years we as a people have developed a taste for less flavorful meat.  We don’t appreciate the strong flavor or the effort it takes to cook mature meat.  So in the end I do appreciate this egg, a symbol of maximum value versus minimal effort.

I carried out my stock, and once the meat was tender I let the pieces cool and gently pulled the meat from the bones.  As for the egg, what now?  It was sitting there waiting for me.  After thinking about it I decided that the best thing for me to do was crack it open and use the yolk to make aioli for the chicken salad.  The shell was thin but the yolk inside was very strong, I could let it roll around from hand to hand easily.  I whipped it up with olive oil and lime juice for  the perfect result.  I chopped the meat, added some apple, green onion and seasoning.  The simplicity of this dish, which typically recalls picnics and sandwiches from mom, held a new lesson.  As I took the first spoonful to taste for seasoning I had a sudden nervous pulse.  Here it goes, I thought, the silky, creamy, fresh aioli with th crunch of sweet apples and onions contrasted with the tender meat and went down smooth.  Even though I thrive on new taste and food experiences I realize that I am still influenced by my upbringing in the modern west.  My upbringing tells me to question the natural and trust the industrial and scientifically validated.  it is for this reason that I continue my quest.  it is for this reason I write to you all.  My goal is to lift the veil and bring out truth and beauty, even if it is manifested through a humble chicken salad.

Whole Chicken Salad

• The cooked meat of one whole chicken, chopped
• 1/2 cup chopped apple
• 1/4 cup chopped green onion
• 1/2 cup chopped celery
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Optional good stuff:  Chopped almonds, raisins or tarragon

Aioli

• 1 room temperature egg yolk as  fresh as you can get
• 1 cup olive oil
• Juice of at least one lime (or any acid really, lemon, cider)
• A little water
• Salt

Beat the yolk with a bit of juice until light in color and a bit bubbly.  Add oil one drop at a time (seriously), and once it starts to thicken you can add a thin stream.  Beat your heart out or use an electronic whisk and add oil slowly.  Keep going until thick and add more acid and salt to taste.  you can add a bit of water to thin it out.  If it breaks don”t worry and try adding an other yolk and mix hard.

Once complete, mix aioli with the rest and enjoy!

Note:  The amount of oil should be enough to make the amount of aioli you need but if you need more aioli you can add more oil and lime juice.