My 19-year-old cat Midori, like many cats, loves to scratch her claws on cardboard.
I didn’t know this when I first got a cat, but unlike dogs, cats shed the outer layer of their claws so that they stay perennially sharp. (The first time I found one of Midori’s discarded claws on my apartment floor, I completely freaked out.)
Cats also scratch to mark territory, stretch out their limbs, and honestly, I think they also just enjoy getting a little taste of destruction every now and again.
I’m really grateful that Midori’s preferred scratching surface is cardboard and not, say, my furniture, curtains, or carpets. Cardboard boxes are easy enough to obtain, especially since I do a lot of shopping at Costco, and easy to recycle afterward.
I’m telling you all of this because I just looked over at Midori’s most recent scratching box — a large, sturdy white box printed with red and black ink that says, “KIRKLAND SIGNATURE BONELESS SKINLESS CHICKEN BREASTS” and “COOK FROM FROZEN.”
I don’t know a whole lot about cooking or the food industry in general, but I have spent a lot of time lately staring at that phrase — “COOK FROM FROZEN”. The box provides no further context or instruction, simply those three words and a hearty dollop of assumption.
And I can’t stop thinking about it. I always thought you weren’t supposed to cook frozen meats — that you needed to thaw them first. (Just the thought of a frozen-solid chicken breast clattering into a skillet makes me wince.)
But maybe I was taught wrong, or there are new ways of doing things, or this chicken has been specially treated in a way that makes cooking it from a frozen state superior.
Maybe it needs to be boiled or braised, and maybe the meat will disintegrate or go through sublimation if thawed beforehand.
Maybe it’s simply bad advice, a misprint, or a morality test of some kind, and I’m in some kind of weird frozen-chicken-themed fairy tale. I have no idea.
What I do know is that I am likely not the intended audience for this message. And yet it has reached me — just like so many messages and rules and instructions and “shoulds”. It would probably be best for me to ignore it. But will I? Can I?
What messages do you receive, printed big and bold, perhaps in ALL-CAPS, that do not apply to you? Messages about what to do, how to act, how to exist, or how to cook frozen, boneless, skinless chicken breasts?
Words & warmth,
Sarah