I received a photo from a friend in Rome who supped today on KFC… yes, in Rome.
In his honor I post the following, for your enjoyment.
With all the lousy news these days, from every direction, we need to break the mood a bit.
If only it had been Chick-fil-a!
And many years ago, a friend wanted to have hot dogs for lunch in Paris, which he did. But that doesn’t make it right! ;)
When you live in a place for a long time, you mix it up a bit.
If only it had been Chick-fil-a!
Popeye’s Fried Chicken, Red Beans and Rice, and Biscuits are unbeatable.
The founder was Al Copeland, who was Catholic. Sadly, he was married four times–before Amoris Laetitia was promulgated.
On the other hand, a priest friend Baptized one of his grandchildren and told me that Al was the only one who knelt during the Baptism.
I actually have that record and had to play it tonight just because. Thanks for the reminder, although I have NEVER eaten at a KFC or McDonald’s in Italy. I just can’t bring myself to do so.
Yep, there’s a lot of great pasta, omelettes, and lamb kebab out there. Sometimes though fried chicken hits the spot. As it happens, there’s a KFC on the edge of Cairo at Giza, less than a half-mile from the Pyramids.
And after working late-night a big cup of Leblebi works well (chickpeas the consistency of oatmeal, a poached or raw egg stirred in, topped with spices and lemon juice), but at times one hankers for the classic frozen burrito.
Please forgive me – but I must insist!
https://youtu.be/yL_amiWnqFQ
What fun, thank you Father Z!, what fun!
Fr Z, break the mood a bit? How many Europeans (self included) are even more depressed at the sight of that picture?
[Nie mój cyrk, nie moje małpy!]
lol. . . I would’ve settled for Chick Corea.
But right now, I’m a bit more concerned, wondering how The Masked Chicken is going to react to the first pic. . . (hopefully not with Cacciatore ).
:)
You’re eating my cousins :( Galiformicide!
Think of the chickens!
Okay, this calls for poetry – did you know that there is an underground swelling of chicken poetry? That’s right, people from all walks of life feel the call of the slightly flighty. Here is one that is a propos:
My coop lights burn at both ends,
please let me sleep I beg.
and worse, my foes, and fie, my friends,
you also eat my legs.
—Mil Lay (Richard Maxson)
From:
http://www.tweetspeakpoetry.com/2015/04/09/top-ten-chicken-poems/
Aren’t those boxed chicken dinners flown in from the United States, hmm – certainly, no Italian chef would sully his hands with, “finger-lickin’ good,” chicken. This is, obviously, a plot to infiltrate Italy with second-rate cuisine. Probably a plot of the CIA – Chicken Infiltrator Agency.
You know what that friend probably did after he ate that chicken dinner – went to confession, yes, that’s right, he went to confession, because his conscience was pecking at him, but did he have a firm purpose of amendment, eh? Does he have the strength of character to resist the urge, again?
This is all a plot of Vatican II, I tell you.
Did you know that there was to be another document of the Council, Super Pullum , On the Virtues of the Chicken (or, The Virtue of being Chicken – there are various schools of thought on how to translate the opening paragraph), but it never got published because I am sure that the Vatican chefs threatened to withhold lunch if it ever saw the light of day.
Was Colonel Sanders even a real colonel, eh? Lies, lies, and half-truths. Just what is in those, “secret spices,” I ask you. Could it not be that the Council Fathers were high on chicken spices when they wrote the documents on Ecumenism and Religious Freedom? It could explain a lot. Of course, the SSPX had to be created. It was inevitable – The Society for Saving Precious Xichens. Laugh all you want, but, someday, maybe soon, all of this will come to light and then, we will see who deserves to be in the frying pan! You Cardinals know who you are. Forget the Hound of Heaven. Look over your shoulder for the Poultry of Purgatory.
The (still uneaten) Chicken
Masked chicken, I was feeling a little down today. No longer! thank you.
KFC in Rome, NY? The one on Erie Boulevard?
I have to admit, in 1982, while traveling as part of the US press pool for President Reagan’s European tour for the G7 Summit, his visit with St. John Paul II, and his first trip to West Berlin, after being in Paris for 2 weeks waiting for the POTUS to arrive, and traveling over the city setting up locations for radio pool, I was so tired of the local fare that I hired a taxi to take me to (wait for it…) the Mickey D’s off the Champs Elisee. Got a lot of sneers and good-natured ribbing from the assembled members of the 4th estate. So I bought a bag of 20 of them and a bunch of fries.
Was mobbed coming back in the door. Managed to save 2 for myself, but the rest were hoovered up in seconds by those same assembled members of the 4th estate.
It tasted just like they did back in the states. We all have our guilty pleasures. That’s mine.
Food that reminds us of home is always good.
Chicken, Bryan D. Boyle, and all, how funny! We do all need to laugh more! We might as well.
That song is VERY POPULAR here in Brazil. There is a variety show that uses it all the time.
My parents sang this in the ’50s. Sophia Loren did a popular version in a movie whose name I do not recall, and a new generation learned it from Matt Damon’s “The Talented Mr. Ripley.”
I wish he sent you the inside of the box. At KFC in the UK, they DO NOT serve mashed potatoes! All they offer are fries. That is enough for me to say no. Perhaps in Italy they have the mash. I’ll find out as I’m moving there next week.
But still, Chick-Fil-A. I wish!
I love how my peeps talk with their hands even while playing the piano!!! Grazia Dio for my Catholic faith, my American character and incarnating them in my beautiful Italian body!!! Thanks for the smile Fr. Z.!
Perhaps The Chicken’s great comment should be dubbed De Rerum Pullum, On Things Chicken.
Perhaps The Chicken’s great comment should be dubbed De Rerum Pullum, On Things Chicken.
Not the way it works, unfortunately. Official documents are titled by their first few words, so this one would be Cognatos meos manducas, which should wake ’em up at the dicasteries.
Great story Bryan D Boyle. Italian Ices etc. are good, but when it’s available there’s something to be said for a cold shake on a hot day.
[Nie mój cyrk, nie moje ma?py!]
Y si tú y los payasos coméis monos fritos con arroz, sal y serrín , no me da un bledo, pero no quiero ver las fotos. Gracias.
Wmeyer- In 2005 my 3 year old and I stopped over in Paris on our way home from Italy specifically to have a meal at Chez Gramond. We got a room at the adjacent hotel so we could just stroll over in the evening…but she was three and in NO MOOD to dine…So we went across the street for hotdogs Americane instead. I realize it is offensive on the face of it, but feel not subjecting other diners to a miserable toddler offsets my culpability to some degree?
Masked Chicken -I am stealing “My Coop Lights Burn at Both Ends”!