The Great Cherokee Chicken Chase

My son Vincent is allergic to many things—dairy, wheat, rice, cats, dogs, horses— you name it; he will come out in a rash if he goes near it. Of course he won’t let anything stop him, especially dogs and cats. The first thing he wants to do when he sees either is to go and give them a big hug and kiss, which is both sweet and problematic at once.

The dairy allergy is the biggest issue we have because in case you didn’t know, milk is in everything even a lot of things you might not expect it to be in, Spaghetti O's for instance. In the UK they come delicious as ever in regular tomato sauce, but here in Georgia and the U.S., that isn’t enough for discerning American customers so they have to shove half a pound of cheese on top. Seriously.

So, he can eat Rotisserie Chicken and my wife could easily compete on MasterChef with the range of dishes and recipes she has created to feed the little fellow. After a busy morning’s play at his office (Kidzstock), we popped across the road to to pick up a chicken. Sadly, they were between cooking cycles and the pork and ribs available wouldn’t work. We swung back down Towne Lake to , who were also in the middle of a cooking cycle. The next chicken would be ready in 20 minutes we are told. It’s 12:30 p.m. now and to be fair, who could have foreseen an increase of customers at such an obscure time of day for food?

Never mind, says dad, we’ll go to . Yes, it’s slightly more expensive but you do tend to get a slightly larger chicken for the money. No regular chickens available, but 12 lemon pepper chickens are stacked up one on top of another like a bizarre circus act. 12! I was getting a bit hungry and fraught myself at this point, I asked the operator who had the lemon pepper fetish that required so many seasoned birds at the expense of a regular one.

A side-note here, I know stores have their own health, safety and hygiene rules, but it seemed cruel and unusual to me to force a bald man to wear a hairnet.

He told me that they had a quota to fill and by jiminy, if 20 lemon pepper chickens are required then 20 lemon pepper chickens will be delivered. That’s all very well says I but what if nobody else likes Lemon Pepper chicken? Then you’ve got a lemon pepper chicken mountain over here haven’t you? This was lawyer-ball, a mere technicality suggests the man. Well he had stopped talking to me by then and gone off to serve another customer, but I guess that’s what he was thinking.

Resigned to defeat, we swung back round to Kroger, some 20 minutes having passed since our original visit only to be told that the next run of chickens would be ready in 20 minutes.  

“But that’s what you told me 20 minutes ago!” I wailed. Again, I was given the familiar “Sir, you’re creating a scene” look and I realized that when the stars are aligned against you then there is little you can do apart from smile. I slumped defeated to the canned goods aisle, grabbed some chicken noodle soup, another family favorite and slunked through the checkout a beaten man.

When life gives you lemons, I will drink the lemonade but you’ll forgive me if I take a pass on the lemon pepper chicken.