The Cowards of the Hot Sandwich World

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Do you feel those pangs of hunger, have no desire to go to the shop, and need to use up those chicken breasts before they go off? Then this post is for you. Everyone else can fuck off. Unless you think you might want chicken burgers later. You can stick around, kiddo! Sorry for the telling you to fuck off. I get a bit high strung.

You will need:

Two chicken breasts – chickens are such delicious feathery cowards. But all of our farmed meat animals are cowards, now I think of it. We’re such food-bullies, always picking on the little guy.

Some bread in which to eat your burgers. Or a knife and fork if you’re on the Atkins. But you shouldn’t be, it’s nonsense. Anyway, don’t let me catch you using your fingers to eat non-sandwiched burgers. This is a civilized blog.

Some more bread to make breadcrumbs out of. One slice ought to do it. You should probably use that rubbish one at the end of the roll that’s all crust. You know the one. The sly bastard.

A couple of eggs – I like to use chicken ones, to continue the chickeny theme. But you can use duck, ostrich, puffin or platypus ones if you prefer.

Cornflour and ordinary plain flour – a bit thereof. Don’t worry about it, why does everything have to be so specific with you? Christ, it’s like that time we drove up to Scotland and you wouldn’t shut up about how soon we had to get off the motorway.

Time required: The back end of one episode of the Simpsons, then the whole episode following it, then the first few minutes of an episode of Futurama. The one where they first go down into the sewers and meet the mutants. Did you know Leela’s parents are in one of the crowd scenes, two seasons before their first spoken lines?

Serves two or one greedy idiot.

Right, let’s get cracking. 1) Take your chicken breasts and place them between two sheets of baking paper. Grab a rolling pin or special meat hammer and whack those bad boys flat. Imagine they have the face of one of those idiots on the bus who plays the thump-thump-thump music on their phones.

2) Separate the first egg. Chuck away the yolk, it’s not for the likes of you. Now whisk the white into a tablespoonish of the cornflour. Brush it all over your chicken. No, you missed a spot. There you go.

3) Stick the chicken in the fridge and put the kettle on. While it’s boiling, crack the second egg into a bowl. Over another bowl, hold the piece of bread and rip a piece off, like you’re a dictator explaining to an enemy how you’ll destroy his armies. Then render it into breadcrumbs by crushing it between finger and thumb, like a dictator explaining how he will grind his enemies into dust. Repeat until you’re out of bread.

4) The kettle’s boiled. Make a brew, and for Christ’s sake let it brew properly. People who make weak tea have soft, weak minds.

5) Get a frying pan on the hob, splash in a bit of olive oil and turn it on to medium-highish. Probably a 5 on the standard 1 – 6 electric hob scale. People with gas hobs can stop showing off and work it out for themselves.

6) Retrieve the chicken from the fridge and sprinkle with plain flour. Now dip those floury bird breasts in the eggy bowl first, then the breadcrumy one.

7) REDACTED FOR LEGAL COMPLIANCE REASONS

8) Put the octopus back in the tank and put the chicken in the pan, cooking for about 5 or 6 minutes each side. Some people might tell you that you should cut the chicken in half to make sure it’s done, but those people are treating you like you’re about five years old and are probably very sexually unadventurous.

9) Serve in the other bread, with whatever salad and stuff you happen to have in the house. Slices of cheese are good, you can drop them on top of the chicken when it’s in the pan. I used grated, which was stupid as it all fell off and got melted into the pan. I’m an idiot.

Enjoy! You might try serving with potato wedges or chips (like that thought hadn’t occurred to you) or if, like me, your landlord came round while you were out to fix your oven door and took it away, you could grill a field mushroom or something. I don’t know, what am I, Captain Serving Suggestion?

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