The little ones I call "chik chiks", I like them. The big ones I call "chickens", and they terrify me. Fears aside, when I discovered that some pals in the neighborhood (specifically one 5-year-old yard chef named P) were preparing fresh salad for their stable of chickens, I had to learn more.
P was unwranglable for commentary at this time, but fortunately her representative, and mother, Sandy, was kind enough to respond...
Sandy- Our daughter has been making "salads" for a couple years with yard clippings... we just got these chickens and it occurred to me that we now have real customers for her salads!
Jeremy- At yr home, is this referred to as chicken salad, just salad, or something else? Also, not to be grotesque, but there is no chicken or egg in the chicken salad, correct?
S- It's chicken salad because it's salad for the chickens... no chicken or egg included.
J- Ok, so chickens like salad? I could totally see them going crazy for croutons, but admittedly, I do not know that much about chickens.
S- Chickens love greens. They are also hunters of bugs and mice but love grains and greens as well.
J- Any dressing? If not, if you guys could pair a dressing with this, what might it be?
S- No dressing, but if we did it might be minced mealworm with a dash of avocado oil... but not much, too many fats are bad for their chicken innards. J- Do the chickens have any personal reviews they'd like to add? S- Personal reviews: Love: Spinach, kale, chard, dandelion, grass, sourgrass, mostly any weedy type thing that is growing in front yard. J- Do the chickens have names? Are any of them mean? I have a recurring dream about a mean chicken.
S- Terribly sorry for your chicken nightmares, but they do have crazy eyes. And crazy eye totally warrants nightmares. Doubly sorry that its recurring. All of our ladies, as we call them, are friendly. Some dont mind being cuddled and held while others you need to have strategy and read their body language in order to pick them up.
Names: First three: Fire (top lady), Brighty (both Rhode Island Reds), and Scout (a Barred Plymouth Rock). Second three: Althea (Grateful Dead song), Sophia (a name P liked), and Pio (means cheep in Spanish). Althea, Sophia, and Pio may be Orpingtons (Buff and Black). But not sure, thats our guess. First three came from guy on craigslist, second three came from North Central Animal Shelter.
Brighty and Scout
Only time they got out was to venture to neighbors yard that is now filled w greens. Had to block a hole in the fence, now they just stare at the the literal green grass on the other side of the fence. Sorry ladies.
Terrific project and compliments to the chef! Now feeding chocobos in Final Fantasy totally makes sense.
THIS is the best use of ambrosia salad I have EVER seen, way better than putting it in your mouth. Damn skippy, and word to Rob Hessler for once again tuning my ear to where the action's at!
My mind goes in way too many directions when considering this gift wrapping alternative... I'll leave it to your imagination. However! Key points here: 1. Traditional bows are probably harmful to the environment ...somehow (that's not my field), so this is terrific. 2. There are far better uses for whipped cream. 3. If you actually waste good fruit making this, then you deserve to be left with the entirety of the "dish" in your refrigerator for like 2 weeks, because nobody at your stupid fucking dinner party even touched it (If you have questions in regards to this please contact, I'll explain. Calmly). 4. Whipped cream and fruit both expire at differing, yet rather rapid paces when left out at room temperature. A good thing, bad thing? Depends on who the recipient is. 5. Seepage. Ambrosia salad is gross, but when giving gifts, it's what's in your heart that matters most. As long as your heart isn't filled with ambrosia salad, then there is peace on earth (Not really, but just don't). Thanks and happy holidays, Count Yr. Dressings
Hidden Valley is seemingly boundless in it's array of dumb-ass promotions. This time targeting the ever important 18-25 male demographic, those who have yet to grow into the more refined "Ranch Fountain".
For full disclosure, I have performed 2 keg stands in my life, and I surely have several bro-bo-pals out there that still get wild with their wings... However, they know best not to arrive at this studio with those, or any other tortured, dip-able items. Conclusion: The keg is kicked.
...and still I couldn't bring my cheap ass to buy it! I can't remember (because it's like 20 years), but salad maybe the only okay thing this place does, however... The thought of seeing that logo staring back at me every time I open the refrigerator was a non-starter. Regardless of price. I'm not there, and I'm not your fucking family. .merda.