but I didn't know how far off the oven was so I didn't know
how to compensate. As I rubbed my elbow with my other
hand, I thought of Frank's reputation for being demanding.
If you've seen the ad that we call "Boot Camp," you know
what I mean. (He plays the part of a drill sergeant in
this ad and teaches the new Perdue recruits the 57 quality
points that they have to inspect -- and then he's all over
one recruit for missing what seems like an invisibly small
hair.)
It's a funny thing, but when you start losing your
confidence, you start asking some basic questions about
what you're doing. Part of me was saying that cooking
chicken is pretty simple; after all, I'd been doing it for
most of my life. But another part of me realized when
attempting to cook chicken for Frank the first time, that I
knew very little of the basics of cooking chicken. Like,
for example, what makes a chicken tender? How do you
really know when it's done$and not over done? How do you
get the best flavor? Should you salt before or after
cooking?
In desperation, I made a two-part promise to myself.
First, I'd let myself take the easy way out that first
meal, and not even try to cook the chicken myself.
Instead, dinner would be a never-fail salad, pasta (Frank
loves pasta), plus store-bought fully-cooked Perdue
Tenders. In return for letting myself off so easily, I'd
make it my business from then on to learn how to make the
best chicken every time. That meant asking Frank every
question that popped into my head; checking with the food
technologists who work for Perdue; getting tips from the