OK. This is the story so far.
Rosette, who manages me called me into her office last week and asked me if I cook where I am living,
"Good, because in the ministry at Christmas we give all of our employees a gift at Christmas of chicken, rice and oil. We'll give it to you on Monday as we are closed on Friday"
"That's very kind. Thank you."
Until I find out today it's not a piece of chicken it's a live chicken!
Now this poses a number of interesting issues many of which I have solved but I do need helpful advice this weekend i.e. before 9 am, Monday.
Problems already solved:
Killing, plucking and cooking. Pale's cleaner. Sorted.
Getting it the two miles back to my hotel including crossing two busy roads and up 60 stairs through crowds. I see it done everyday. You put your arm under its belly and hold it between its legs loosely gripping the legs with thumb and little finger. The head goes between elbow and ribs and it will lie there quite happily watching the ground go past. Or at least they do for everyone else. I shall probably get the Michael Flatley of the avian world. And what about when I get it home to my hotel room? Not sure M. Jean-Marie will be too pleased, I will have to dump my stuff in reception and find a taxi to take me to Pale's. I'm sure the taxi driver does it every day. Sort of sorted.
The real problem is getting hold of it in the first place. I do not want to look a complete prat chasing a reluctant chicken around the Ministry of Foreign Affairs falling ass over elbow in front of a couple of hundred head-shaking, side-splitting experts.
Who knows how to wrassle a chicken to the ground in a suave, elegant, urbane style? Suggestions to this blog please……….. and quickly.