My Grandmother Tastes Raw Chicken 

At 10 PM one night, my good friend delivered 2.5 kg of chicken and ground beef to be marinated and cooked for a bachelorette party. All had to be done in less than 30 hours.

Another good friend and I, cleaned, cut, and cube cube cubed the chicken and beef.

Since we were using it to make tacos, we seasoned it with cumin and paprika and jalapenos and everything else that tastes like appropriated Spanish flavour.

Afterwards, my grandmother (who lives with us)- to my best friend’s horror- picked up a piece of chicken and tasted the marinade. [Note: She did not eat it, just licked it.]

The average person raised in fear mongering North America will know, one should not consume or come close to consuming raw meats and eggs because said person will get salmonella and die. This is a fact.

It’s science, people.

My witty best friend looked at me and said “She’d only do that if she only fears god.” I burst into laughter.

You see- she’s right.

My grandmother tastes raw chicken. Why? Because deep down she does not fear sickness, and thus, she does not fear death and by extension the unknown. My grandmother is fearless.

She needs to taste the chicken’s level of salt- and so she does. Regardless of what would happen to her.

So, I’ve adopted this new slogan in my life “Taste Raw Chicken.” It reminds me to live my life without fear. As a matter of fact, I gave a pep talk to the podcast team about this exact thing. And yes, I did cite this story.

So go on, taste raw chicken*; live fearlessly.

Disclaimer: *I should probably mention this is what they call in the English language “figurative language.” With this, I release myself of any legal liability that the misunderstanding of this language may cause.

 

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