Flow of Food: A Chickens Tale

Henry Jones Block G

You know how they say a chicken can live after her heads been clean chopped off? Well that happened to me and I think I have maybe even lived longer than I should have; Ive been decapitated, plucked, broken down, and packaged and still I have thoughts running through my, well not so much head, but bare breast. I am one of a dozen packaged chicken breasts, I cant say I recognize my roomies, they must be from a different farm, but regardless of their heritage I think I was placed in this box for a reason: to test the flow of food standards and make sure my final destination to a paying customer is a journey that is proper and safe. It all starts here, in this chilly box. The name of my deliverer is Hank and from what Ive overheard he is both safe and reputable. Its been years since his last complaint because he is a knowledgeable, attentive, and flexible delivery man. I was first loaded tightly into an ice box, keeping my internal temperature well below 41F, and labeled with a TTI (time-temperature indicator) tag for extra safety. Upon arrival Hank unloaded all the TCS foods, including yours truly, and brought them into the restaurant first. In order to make the most out of his trips Hank stacked up some boxes of various meats. He had my cramped abode as the bottom layer, then a box of ground beef, and finally, on top, a container of fresh salmon fillets. He organized this very well, keeping in mind minimum internal cooking temperatures to avoid cross contamination. Hank greeted the head chef, Nolan, with a smile and read off the order they had agreed on. While Hank received the remainder of goods from his truck (mostly dry goods, pastas, bread, flour, etc.) Nolan began checking the internal temperatures of his new product. He probed deep into the thickest part of my flesh not only once, but twice and recorded the average of the two temperatures; I was at a frigid 38F. He repeated the process with his other meats and put us in the walk-in refrigerator right away. Like Hank, he followed the correct procedure for storing: I was placed on the bottom shelf, the ground beef above me, and then the fish fillets (his shelves didnt have liners either, creating a balanced flow of air!) Nolan finished inspecting his order and was once again satisfied with Hanks services. After a signature and a friendly farewell, Hank went off to his next destination. Nolan began prepping for the evening to come. His chicken schnitzel had grown extremely popular among the community so he began prepping at once. He figured it would be a fairly busy Wednesday night so he decided to pound out the entire box of breasts. He set up his prep station with a yellow cutting board, a yellow handled meat mallet, and a sanitized landing zone for the flattened chicken breasts (also before setting up his area he sanitized the surface, washed his hands properly, and re-washed, rinsed, and sanitized all his equipment). He removed the box of breasts from the walk-in and began poundin. After gracefully flattening our faces, he stacked us neatly in a hotel pan and placed us back in the walk-in to keep cool. He washed, cleaned, and sanitized himself, his surfaces, and equipment before moving on to the next steps. He needed to next just bread his schnitzel and in order to do so he required flour, egg wash, and seasoned bread crumbs. He set up the flour and bread crumbs first in long, flat containers and left one empty in the center for an egg mixture. Since Nolan serves a community that has a high elderly population, he grabbed six pasteurized shell eggs from the walk-in and a gallon of

milk. In a large bowl he whisked the eggs with a splash of milk. He poured the egg mixture into the empty container in his prep area and brought the bowl to his dish area. He then washed his hands, returned the milk to the refrigerator and, while in the area, brought us flattened breasts out to his prep station. We were floured, egged, crumbed, and placed in a new, sanitary landing zone. With us chickens out of the way, and safely stored within the reach-in on the cooks line, Nolan moved on to the rest of the prep he needed to do for that evening, following strict sanitation procedures throughout the entire afternoon. He really impressed me with his practices and I was happy to be under his watchful eye; as chickens you never know where youre going to end up, Ive heard some pretty horrific stories through the coop vines. Anyway, at around 5 oclock Nolan and his crew got their first guest and dinner ticket and on it was an order for chicken schnitzel. Nolan threw a saut pan on the flames of the stove and added a little oil to the pan. He then washed his hands, put on a pair of gloves, and removed me from his reach-in fridge. He lowered me gently into the popping bath of oil and let me crisp. He removed his gloves, washed his hands, and moved on to plate the remainder of the dish because it was requested to fire immediately. He scooped a hefty amount of mashed potatoes (which were prepped right before service and heated and covered correctly) and assembled the daily vegetable bundle which were gathered right from the garden in the back (dont worry! He has a HACCP plan and a variance all in order to do so). He used a spatula to flip me and get that same golden crisp on my other side. When I looked ready to be plated chef Nolan checked my internal temperature in two places with a penetration probe thermometer and it read 167F. I was safe to go! He plated me up, garnished me all pretty, and sent me off into the hands of his trusted servers. I sang with joy all the way to the table; guests looking over, salivating from my scent and eager to experience something equally as delicious. I was in good service hands too. His hygiene was proper, thumbs below the plate rim, and a smile as warm as my insides. The guest was ecstatic and would leave happy, healthy, and fully satisfied. Within his stomach I now tell this tale, a safe chicken with no regrets of sale.