I was destined to cook frozen chicken without defrosting it!

I didn’t realise that the following day was Martyrs national holiday. Monday it was and it only hit me at 5:00pm that the next day was indeed a public holiday. With this realisation, I had to put in a few extra hours to justify a pay cheque at the end of the June month.  Leaving office at about 11:00pm, it was clear that most of the places that I could raid for a decent meal were closed.  I had to make peace with my complaining tummy by grabbing a couple of fresh fruits from the roadside women in Kabalagala (the Mama Mbogas of Kampala).

 

I needed to stock foodstuff that would deliver quick fix meals for the next day – the nearest available option from which to grab something was Uchumi Kabalagala.  Enough of the noodles, I took to the fridges and fished out a whole frozen chicken.  Of course that would be quick to fix! My thoughts and imaginations as I walked to the pay counter – defrost it, chop it up into sizeable pieces, sprinkle some salt, drop the pieces in hot cooking oil and voilà I will be good to go after a few minutes – that was my perfect plan!  All this was supposed to happen before I go to bed so I don’t have to hustle in the kitchen the following day.  With that, I knew I was covered for the day’s three meals – breakfast, lunch and dinner. 

 

On arrival at home, I swung into the kitchen and swiftly moved to step one – defrosting my frozen dressed chicken.  After two good hours of mixed actions including watching telly, dosing off and fighting with mosquitos in my sitting room, I went to check on my broiler with the anticipation that by then it would have thawed. It was coming to 2:00am and the chicken was still as hard as a stone.  My immediate decision at that point was to leave it defrosting till morning and abandon my initial plan of cooking that night.

 

At seven in the morning, I was woken up by a foul smell coming from the kitchen; it was that very packed chicken – the expiry date tag was invisible but the attendant at the pay counter had confirmed that they do not sell expired products. 

 

Without wasting time and with a lot of anger, I re-packed the smelly bird in the Uchumi kaveera, got the receipt that I had been given and hit the road back to Uchumi Kabalagala. I was sure that even though they replace the chicken, they would probably not pay for the ‘inconveniences caused’. 

 

At Uchumi’s customer service counter stood a young lady dressed in the company’s uniform with earphones pierced in her ears.  She was kind enough to unplug her earphones and direct me to a lady next to her who was to handle my ‘case’.  I explained that I had bought chicken from the supermarket the previous night but it was bad; I handed to her the receipt and the smelly pack of chicken draped in the supermarket’s kaveera as I went on to explain.  The lady didn’t seem like she was destined to give me trouble.  She asked, “did you try to defrost this chicken?”  I responded, “Yes of course, madam”.  And she concluded, “in the process of defrosting it, it went bad”.  So? I asked.  She responded, “you should have cooked it without having to change its temperature”.  “Once you change our products’ temperature, they go bad!”  I listened carefully in shock and awe, short of asking, so, madam, how would I have cooked frozen chicken without defrosting it first? Or how do you ‘cook’ something without having to 'change' its original 'temperature'?

 

Anyhow, after that shocking lecture from this well clad young lady, I was asked to wait so they could get me a replacement.  In less than two minutes, a frozen pack of whole chicken arrived at the customer service counter, and this time, I asked that we check out the expiry date before I could leave.  Again, the tag of the expiry date was off, but (again) I received assurances, “this is not expired sir”, “take it, cook it without defrosting it and you surely will ‘see’ that here we do not sale expired products”. I had heard the same statement the previous night though!

 

I was in no mood of wasting any more time discussing how I could cook frozen chicken without thawing it first.  With a new pack finally in my hands, I said my thank you(s) and off I walked away trying to Google how I could cook frozen chicken without defrosting it first; but zilch, there was nothing I could find. 

 

I didn’t dare try the lady’s advice at home, I cooked my chicken like my mother taught me and hocus-pocus I enjoyed my first meal of the day at 1:00pm on Martyrs day!