- On the few occasions during the depression that my family bought a fat hen
for Sunday dinner from the local poultry store, my sister and I would work
a good part of Saturday afternoon to help pull out the little ends of pin
feathers after the bird was plucked by my mother. Our reward was the boiled
paprc~ky as a snack. I have not eaten them since.
B. J. Licko-Keel (_BJLK@..._ (http://BJLK@.../) )
In a message dated 1/24/2010 6:24:38 P.M. Central Standard Time:
. . . my grandmother made soup with chicken feet. I do remember these
yellow feet in a big pot on the coal stove along with veggies and whatever she
put in the pot.
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