It was cold last night as the car dropped me off and pulled away into the cloud of foggy fumes that plumed out from its muffler, as I crossed the sidewalk and fumbled through what seemed like an endless sea of pockets to find my house keys.
Stumbling up onto the porch, I prodded the lock with my key and fussedly cursed the front door that I was convinced, in my intoxicated state, was designed by German engineers to be highly efficient at locking me out of my home.
Finally realizing how to operate the rather feeble device that requires no more than the education level of a nat, even though at the time it felt like a post graduate degree from an ivy league school would be needed for entry, I unlocked the door and did the cold short stepping penguin-esque walk into my apartment. Flinging my bags and guitar on the floor I headed to the kitchen.
I was hungry. It was 3am. I was drunk. I decided to make a chicken sandwich.
Recalling a tip from a fellow co-worker during my years as a cook I remembered a great method for the instant chicken sandwich. A quick recipe that allows the deliciousness of a toasted battered chicken filet, but avoids having to fire up the stove. Perfect for a man in my state.
How to Make an Instant Chicken Sandwich
Step 1. Locate Battered Chicken Filets
Step 2. Toast bread and chicken filets simultaneously as to maximize cook time efficiency. (4 Slice Toaster Required)
Step 3. Attack hunger with fantastic chicken sandwich
Approx Prep Time: 5mins.
Before the thought of the scrumptious feast could fill my head I hurriedly flung open the freezer door, plunged my hand into the bag of frozen battered chicken breasts and withdrew a lucky contestant.
With a free hand managing to navigate the 4 slice toaster beside the fridge, I plugged it into the outlet reached across my chest and dropped the forthcoming feast into place. Plunged the lever down, shut the freezer door and waited.
Now prouder than a pussy cat trotting along with a mouse clasped in its jaw I quietly smirked at my own awesomeness and eagerly waited as the smell of breadcrumb battered chickeness filled my nose.
In my inebriated eagerness to eat I was convinced enough time had elapsed for the toasting to be complete, for the meal to be consumed and for me to fulfill the requests of what most would consider an already over fed belly. I popped the toaster leaver up hoping to awaken the succulent breast from its toasty slumber.
Alas, there was nothing to be seen.
Had the toaster malfunctioned? Did I not set the time right?
It was 3am. I was drunk. And in my haste and drunken state I had managed to wedge a half cooked breaded chicken filet into my new roommate’s toaster.
As the leaver had been moved up, the chicken filet, that had been in the toaster for no more than a minute, was only thawed slightly and had been pushed into the grooves, nooks and crannies of the internal toaster grill, flaking apart like a crumbling cracker.
In my futile last ditch attempt to save the meal, I withdrew a fork from the drawer below and attacked the toaster slot, stopping only after no less than 5 minutes to confirm that I had indeed unplugged the device before my Homer Simpson style rescue of what inevitably would be my lost meal.
Trying to remove the breaded chicken corpse proved to be useless as flipping the toaster upside down had no effect. Short of disassembling the device I was left only with a breaded chicken filet coffin. No sandwich.
It was 3am. I was drunk. I was defeated.
Ace…I owe you a toaster.
Respectfully & Sincerely
The Late Night Master Chef
*For those of you reading this, keep in mind this event comes on the heels of me forgetting my keys at the apartment…MY FIRST NIGHT THERE.