Chicken Foot Tongs (Long and Rambling)

Shortly after I awoke this morning, while I was still snug in bed letting my mind wander as it is wont to do before I actually get up, I suddenly seized upon the image of chicken foot tongs. “Whuh?” thinks I, “Chicken foot tongs? Where’d that come from?”

I’m sure I haven’t seen a pair since the 60’s, much less given them any thought in the intervening years. I began to think maybe I wasn’t as awake as I’d imagined I was and maybe I’d dreamed the whole concept of chicken foot tongs. But no, I could picture exactly what they were like. The ones I’d seen were probably six or eight inches long. They were embossed with wrinkle marks and claws at the ends of the chicken toes. They were plainer (by far) than these
but fancier than these. The ones I remember were probably aluminum. I think we might have had a pair but probably a friend or two had them also.

In my early morning reverie I wondered what the proper use for them was. I knew it was for some kind of consumable but, I mean, why use something as unattractive and unsanitary as chicken feet? (At least the ones attached to the chicken are, IMHO.) Of course, the writer in one of links above stated that they were once considered ornate. Um, OK. Whatever floats your boat, I guess.

I knew they had something to do with food so, going with the poultry theme, I thought maybe they were used to take fried chicken off the serving platter. But no, everyone just uses their hands for that. And the tongs I’d seen seemed a little inadequate for that job anyway. Then, given that adults in the sixties were still big on cocktail parties, I thought perhaps they were used to transfer ice into their drinks. Indeed, the other link indicates such. And another suggests using them for sugar cubes.

Then, as my mind rambled further, it strayed to the time when I worked with a bunch of wonderful, generous Chinese folks. I eagerly tried any foods they offered me and enjoyed most of them but when it came to boiled chicken feet, nuh uh! I know my friends considered them delicious but I couldn’t get past they way they looked. So swollen, flaccid and pale. They just weren’t natural. I had to look away whenever someone would pick one up to eat.

Not long after that, I had a temporary job at Amazon.com. This was in Amazon’s very early years when they were operating out of a very tiny warehouse in the Sodo district just south of downtown Seattle. I bet the square footage of that place wasn’t a whole lot more than the twelve unit apartment building I’m typing this from. OK, maybe there was twice the amount of square footage, but still, for a warehouse, it was tiny. Now Amazon occupies much of the 12 story former Public Health hospital on Beacon Hill. They’re getting cramped there so they’re planning to move to an even bigger place in a few years. And they have several other sites around the country too. Who knew such a mega corporation could have started out so small not really all that long ago? It’s kind of mind-boggling.

Anyway, I was working there and one day I got off of work and went to the bus stop to go home. There was a newspaper box next to the bus stop and on top of the box, someone had placed a boiled chicken foot. I was only a couple of miles from the International District (aka Chinatown) where I’m sure you can get them from many places, but still, you just don’t expect one to show up at your bus stop one day all by it’s lonesome. Maybe I was extra tired but it was a little surreal, you know?

Kind of like the image of chicken foot tongs popping into my head shortly after I had woken up.

Where have your post-sleep ramblings taken you lately?

In our early days my husband took me (then an untravelled Midwesterner) out for dim sum, which I’d never had. That was my first encounter with barbecued chicken feet. I bravely tried one, but, while it didn’t really disgust me, it didn’t float my boat either. The pork bao, on the other hand…

When we were in Oakland a few years later, the grocery store I favored sold their chickens with the feet on, in deference to all the Chinese grannies picking out snowpeas one at a time. I’m sure they (the grannies) would have been scandalized to know that my chicken feet went straight into the trash.

My mom’s chicken feet tongs were used for sugar cubes at fancy teas and dinners.

Funny enough – this morning, I had one very lucid dream. I decided in the dream that I was going to do a bit of self-hypnosis and told myself that I would wake up refreshed, even though the night was spent tossing and turning and waking up every few hours. Surprisingly, or maybe not, it worked. I woke up when my alarm went off feeling like a million bucks. Not quite the same as your story, but I hope ya don’t mind me sharing.

I don’t mind at all, Litoris. I’m glad it worked for you.

Mmmm, that reminded me of a place at the Pike Place Market that makes the best BBQ pork hum baos ever. Manna from heaven I tell you! I think it’s the Mee Sum Bakery, if anyone is interested.

You’ve got to love the Chinese for the concept of dim sum. Even if you have to put up with the occasional chicken foot.