Fried Chicken Backs and Feet

Granny feeding her chickens.

Mom and I were talking today about the way things were. She was born in 1941 and raised in Sylvania, Mo. a rural community in Dade County. The conversation started around unknown sacrifices a mother makes for her children and how the children often don't find out about those sacrifices until they have children of their own or have grown old with wisdom.


Every spring Granny and Granddad would go to the local feed store and buy grain and with that grain would come a fresh supply of baby chicks. An exciting time for a small child, baby chicks are a hoot to watch. Mom's family would tend to those chicks, feeding them, waiting for them to lay eggs and then later butchering them for their food. A staple that was important for many rural families who didn't build their pantry's from store bought supplies.

Of course one would have to have the forgotten skill of butchering. That in it self was a huge task. Granny would catch the chicken, wring its neck (that is where the phrase came from mom use..."I'm gona ring your neck if...") then plunge it into boiling water to release the feathers. There is also the skill in knowing how to separate the chicken into edible pieces which I believe is another lost art. (Not many do this anymore. We tend to buy our pieces in already categorize bundles: legs, thighs, breasts, drumsticks...you get my drift).  Nothing went to waste.  Mom said that Granny would even skin the feet of the chicken, prepare the organs, and head.  She fried it all!

Ok, all of this background to get to the “meat” of my point.  When mom’s family set down to the table Granny would always say, “Give me that back and those feet, they’re my favorite” and she did that with a joyful face and a hearty laugh.  Mom said she didn’t realize for years just what those words really meant.  In case you don’t either let me rephrase what Granny was saying, “I will take the back and those feet that don’t have much meat so you all can have the bigger potions.  I want to do this really!  I love you all so much that I want you to have the best and I am going to act like I love these pieces so you won’t feel bad about the sacrifice I am making.  Cause you see, we are so poor that I am thankful just to have food on the table and besides that it really makes me happy to see you satisfied”.

So now every time I set down to a plate of chicken I will think of that joyful sacrificial giving.

Granny feeding her chickens.

Mom and I were talking today about the way things were. She was born in 1941 and raised in Sylvania, Mo. a rural community in Dade County. The conversation started around unknown sacrifices a mother makes for her children and how the children often don't find out about those sacrifices until they have children of their own or have grown old with wisdom.


Every spring Granny and Granddad would go to the local feed store and buy grain and with that grain would come a fresh supply of baby chicks. An exciting time for a small child, baby chicks are a hoot to watch. Mom's family would tend to those chicks, feeding them, waiting for them to lay eggs and then later butchering them for their food. A staple that was important for many rural families who didn't build their pantry's from store bought supplies.

Of course one would have to have the forgotten skill of butchering. That in it self was a huge task. Granny would catch the chicken, wring its neck (that is where the phrase came from mom use..."I'm gona ring your neck if...") then plunge it into boiling water to release the feathers. There is also the skill in knowing how to separate the chicken into edible pieces which I believe is another lost art. (Not many do this anymore. We tend to buy our pieces in already categorize bundles: legs, thighs, breasts, drumsticks...you get my drift).  Nothing went to waste.  Mom said that Granny would even skin the feet of the chicken, prepare the organs, and head.  She fried it all!

Ok, all of this background to get to the “meat” of my point.  When mom’s family set down to the table Granny would always say, “Give me that back and those feet, they’re my favorite” and she did that with a joyful face and a hearty laugh.  Mom said she didn’t realize for years just what those words really meant.  In case you don’t either let me rephrase what Granny was saying, “I will take the back and those feet that don’t have much meat so you all can have the bigger potions.  I want to do this really!  I love you all so much that I want you to have the best and I am going to act like I love these pieces so you won’t feel bad about the sacrifice I am making.  Cause you see, we are so poor that I am thankful just to have food on the table and besides that it really makes me happy to see you satisfied”.

So now every time I set down to a plate of chicken I will think of that joyful sacrificial giving.