TikTok Nuggets

I hate to admit this, because I long to be cool, but perhaps… I’m not.  And frankly, I thought, maybe, if parent-cool was on a one-to-ten number line, perhaps I was a seven.  I’m a little too Type A to ever be an eight, but still, compared to other middle agers I know, I felt like my cool factor was above average. 

There have been several moments over the years that have made me ponder my coolness.  A while back when I was dating, a “cool” guy at work told me I needed to stop dressing like a 50-year-old man if I ever wanted to find a woman.  But I was a 50-year-old man, and I scored a pretty fine lady even in dad jeans, a V-neck sweater, and a button down shirt.

But this month, Michelle turned 18.  Two weeks ago to celebrate, Julie and I set up our porch to host a couple of her friends.  When we asked about food, she requested a smorgasbord of chicken nuggets and French fries.  Yes.  Julie and I were each assigned three fast food restaurants.  We were instructed to purchase chicken nuggets, fries and dipping sauce. 

I was timid about requesting too many sauces.  Julie, not so much.  Chic Fil A gave her 30, six of each kind.  She’s a salesperson, not afraid to ask for what she wants. 

We brought them home, masked ourselves and dumped them all on a tray. 

I soon discovered that the food choice had nothing to do with chicken or potatoes.  Apparently, this meal is a TikTok trend. 

Some of you are wondering, what is TikTok?  I’m learning it is a video sharing app.  You take 15 second videos and the world can see them. 

So before wolfing down the nuggets, and drenching them in Polynesian, everything stopped.  Videos were taken.  Videos were retaken.  And only then, did they partake.

I don’t understand the TikTok.  I like TV shows and movies.  And thus the divide:  18 vs. 55. 

Exp. 9/14/19

I think the USDA is in bed with the chicken people.

Last weekend we bought chicken for Julie’s son Will.  The next weekend he called to get her recipe for chicken strips.  Julie told him to check the expiration date on the biddy.  It was like five days ago.  She told him he had to buy new meat.

What the heck?  We’re all gonna go broke if we have to toss out every semi-expired breast we purchase.

Most of the time I freeze my meat and pull it out the day before I cook it.  When you freeze, it can last for years!

But seriously, five days past expiration?  It’s gotta still be good.  That is simply a ploy to get you to buy more chicken.  I feel certain Mr. Perdue’s lobbyist is behind all this.

I told Julie Will could just heat those little boogers up a bunch and that the heat would kill the salmonella.  We both assume there is likely some level of disease in a refrigerator in an apartment rented by four, male, juniors in college.  When I was that age and my parents came to move me out of my apartment at NC State University in May, my mom found a small Tupperware container with “tuna salad” she’d sent back with me after Christmas.  It didn’t really look or smell like tuna at that point.  I was surprised she recognized it.  But maybe it was the container she found familiar.

Doesn’t heat kill germs?  We wash our dishes in a dishwasher that gets real hot – which gets our silverware clean!  We eat off of forks in restaurants that have been in any number of mouths.  I think it would be interesting to follow the life of a Golden Corral spoon.  I bet we’ve eaten from the same utensils as our co-workers and neighbors and never even known it.  I bet I’ve shared a spoon with Oprah!  But she doesn’t care – because they killed my germs with…HEAT!

I have mustard that has been part of our family since the 90’s.  It’s still as spicy as the day I brought it home from Treasure City.  And it expired before my second child was born (she’s a sophomore in college).

When I suggested to Julie that maybe heating the meat would kill the germs, she wondered if the USDA hadn’t already thought of that and suggested I call them to share my idea.  I might.

Until I get the chance to give them my thoughts, just cook, cook, cook!  I’m sure it will be just fine.

CBS, Here We Come!

eggo tyson nuggets

Several years ago the girls and I ate dinner at Beasley’s Chicken and Honey downtown.  Mmmm.    They fry up this incredible hen and plop it on a homemade waffle, a little honey drizzled randomly over the bird.  A couple of weeks later, as I struggled with supper options, it hit me:  I could replicate Ashley Christensen’s (Beasley owner) entrée.  I already had the ingredients in the freezer.

I pulled out four Eggo’s and opened a bag of Tyson nuggets, a little Mrs. Buttersworth, and swala!, dinner was served.

I believe that may be how we were discovered.  She heard about my cooking prowess.

Last Thursday, I got a call around 5 PM.  The conversation went something like this:

“This is Jessica from the Rachael Ray Show.  Is this Danny Tanner from The Real Full House blog, the one who wrote the book Laughter, Tears and Braids?”

I assumed Uncle Jesse was punking me, but I chose to play along.

“This is Danny.”  Rachael must need some help in the kitchen, I thought to myself.  Probably working on chicken and waffles.

“I’d like to talk with you about your family.  If you’re interested, we would like to consider flying you and your girls up to be on the show.”

Well, I’ll have to see if I can fit you in between Ellen and dinner at the White house.  I’m receiving a Metal of Honor for my literary genius.

“We are finding that our male viewership is increasing.  We are working on segments that appeal to that audience.”

“So, this isn’t Jesse?”

“Jesse who?”

I didn’t get too excited.  I still wasn’t convinced this wasn’t some sort of elaborate hoax, and we’d had some odd offers before that didn’t pan out.  Three groups have talked to us about reality TV shows.  When I express that I’m not about to have open season in my living room with no editorial control, the conversations tend to wane.  A documentary on pushing through tough times I’d be interested in; the Raleigh version of Honey Boo Boo, not so much.

We’re supposed to fly out today.  I’m not exactly sure what will happen – I think they’re doing some videos of our family on Wednesday and the actual show will be taped on Thursday.  It could be a 15 second snippet with us pointed to in the audience, sort of like Funniest Home Videos, or perhaps we’ll get to sit at the kitchen table and sip on a cup-o-joe with the star.  Or maybe, just maybe, I’ll get to teach her how to make chicken and waffles.  Talk about a ratings bump!

Chicken and Waffles a la Danny

eggotyson nuggets

There is a really interesting restaurant in downtown Raleigh called Beasley’s Chicken + Honey.  Ashley Christensen has become a famous local chef and entrepreneur who has worked to bring good food and spirits to our city.  She owns Beasley’s.

This hip joint has tables with stools and serves fried chicken on a waffle – with honey.

I ate there a while back, and it was good.  Reminded me a bit of my grandma’s southern (South Carolina) cooking.

After the girls went one night with Uncle Jesse and came back with rave revues, I figured Ashley might be on to something.  I’m always looking for new meals!

So – I bought a box of Eggo’s and some Tyson chicken nuggets.  I plugged in the toaster and turned the microwave on high.

I was so looking forward to THE early evening question…

“Dad, what’s for dinner?”

“You’re gonna like this one!  Remember when you went downtown with Uncle Jesse to that cool restaurant?”

“The one with chicken and waffles?”

“Oh yeah,” I said with slight bit of swag.

I am THE man!  I couldn’t believe I was so clever.  I remembered something they liked and had put this meal together ON MY OWN!

As I brought the plates to the table, I could see their faces fall.

“Get the ketchup,” Michelle dourly requested.

DJ was more blatant in her criticism.

“This is disgusting.  Can I eat the waffle now and come back in thirty minutes for the nuggets?  It’s like two different meals.  YUCK!”

I don’t understand.  They do this on Good Morning America every week!  They have a model come out in a very expensive dress that looks nice, and they find a similar outfit that came from Walmart.  No one can every tell the difference.

I mean it was the exact same combination that Ashley had served up the week before – which they loooved!

What is wrong with these people who live with me???

Here Little Chickie Chick…

Posted by Danny

What in the heck is inside of this chicken?  I bought it at Harris Teeter the other day.  It was on sale for $5.  I wasn’t sure what I was gonna do with it, but it seemed like a lot of meat for a little money – so I nabbed it.

I knew I had a chicken, but I didn’t know it came with a prize in the middle.  Sort of like a cereal box but wet and squishy.  I personally prefer a Hot Wheel.

I remember the first time Lisa cooked a turkey – it was Thanksgiving and we decided we’d host that year.  Someone warned Lisa to look between the turkey’s legs before putting it in the oven.  She gasped when she opened him.  I came running.

“What’s wrong baby?”

“There’s a bunch of gross stuff inside the turkey.”


I had to see for myself.  I spread his legs and thought he was excited to see me.  My mom later told me it was his neck bone. 

How disturbing – you kill the poor fella and then stuff his neck between his legs.  That’s just not right.

But that wasn’t a neck in this chicken.  It was a ball of bloody muck.  I started to leave it in there but was afraid it would get mixed up with the rest of the bird, and I’d end up with a mouth full of chicken innards.  When I put my hand in to get it, I was shocked at the chill.  My digits nearly froze off.  If I ever bruise something, forget the ice pack.  I’m just gonna stick my wound inside of a $5 chicken.  It’s economical, and I’m certain it would stop the swelling.

I didn’t know how to cook this dude so I asked some women at the office.  I told them I wanted a chicken like they sold at the grocery store deli. 

“What do you call those whole little chickens they sell over by the good cheese?” I asked.


“Yeah.  That’s it.  Can I make one of those?”

“Do you have a rotisserie?” one woman inquired.

“I don’t think so.”

“Then no.”  Apparently she had work to do and didn’t want to be bothered with my poultry problems.

Who knew you had to have a special appliance to roast a chicken like that?  Harris Teeter is so lucky.

Thankfully a nice lady who works in accounts receivable quietly called me to her cubical.  She told me a secret way to get nearly the same taste, and all you had to have was an oven and a pan!

I’ll have to admit that it turned out pretty good, but that’s my last time cooking one of those things.  I don’t like sticking my hand in there.  If I wanted to be a urologist, I’d have gone to med school.

I’m sticking with the boneless breast of chicken – nothing in there but good ole white meat.

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