The Chicken Man

I know I asked and I know I was told, but I do not remember.  And, if I could, I would not be able to pronounce it, or spell it.  So with no disrespect, and in fact, with an honor and acknowledgment of his skills; I refer to him as the Chicken Man. 

On about a 150 sq meter lot, off of busy  (by island motor bike standards) Hin Kong Road, sits the restaurant of the chicken man.  Restaurant might be elaborate.  There is a dirt floor, thatched bamboo roof, no walls, about 6 tables- one of which is always occupied by a bunch of junk, and the other which is occupied by the chicken man or his wife. There is a help yourself fridge of soda, water and beer in the back next to the kitchen area.  I try to avoid much study of the kitchen area, and would probably never order anything that required preparation in the kitchen area.  The front of the restaurant has a grill, on which sits ……. Chicken. There is also grilled Saba (mackerel).  There is a cooler behind the grill in which are baggies of sticky rice.  

It is all about the chicken – the leg/thigh combo, probably a term for that, but I’m no butcher, is 40 baht.  I typically get two, it comes with a dish of hot sauce, which I use sparingly. 

The funny thing about eating at the restaurant of the chicken man, is the chicken. This chicken is not on the grill, but is strutting around the restaurant sometimes on a table sitting next to the chicken man’s wife.  It avoids the grill. It always makes me feel uncomfortable to see the chicken, because I wonder if it knows what is going on.  I understand the chicken is an egg layer, thus, in the what eats what hierarchy, it is spared.  I do my best to avoid eye contact with it because the one time I looked at it and said ‘hello chicken’ it came at me and pecked at my toe. 

The other fixture at the restaurant is the dog.  I may have been told the dog’s name, but I do not remember, thus I refer to it as Dog.  The dog is the dog of the chicken man; it has a lite weight chain that trails about a meter around its neck. As I understand it the dog the dog had a habit of wandering into the street and engaging motorbikes in battle, maybe a Don Quixote complex.  The dog seems fit, with no wounds or limp, so I’m guessing the motorbikes were less well off. The dog had to be chained up in the restaurant after that.  However, the chain broke, but with the amount that is still dragged behind, the dog thinks he is still chained and thus, does not go into the road. 

The chicken man is an easy lunch stop, and the smell of grilling chicken always tempts me.  It is not unusual to share a table, so a little socialization is welcomed, or not.  While I enjoy my chicken, I make a long mental list of what I would do to clean up the place, nothing that would take more then a weekend.  However, I suppose that would change what and who the chicken man is.