The scene was tense; several off-duty police officers accompanied by private security guards were in the process of transporting an invaluable object to an undisclosed location. Bo Diddley, I mean, Bo Dieti, the president of the security company, marched in a clave rhythm down the hall to the vault. An armored car with an intimidating driver, who looked like Shrek, idled outside. They carefully opened the vault, and Bo Dieti handcuffed the object to his wrist for the trip.
What was it that warranted the security of a multi-million dollar Van Gogh?
A famous recipe, of course.
About 68 years ago, the world’s most famous recipe was created and locked up for safe keeping. No, it’s not the Baldwin Sisters' bootlegger father’s famous whiskey blend. It is Colonel Harland Sanders’ ingenious concoction and handwritten (in pencil) recipe containing the 11 herbs and spices that coat KFC’s famous Original Recipe chicken.
The recipe is so protected that some of the herbs and spices are combined at different locations in the Unites States and the only complete copy is secured in the corporate vault, until now.
As it was removed from the vault, the KFC CEO was experiencing mood altering endorphins, probably hitting the john every 5 minutes, as “the recipe” hadn’t seen the light of day in over 20 years. However, they successfully whisked it away, like Dick Cheney, to a secure undisclosed location.
I always figured one would have to have the taste buds of a catfish to figure out the recipe. Especially, after a few of my friends tried to duplicate it once for a cook out. We thought it would be a hoot to try.
We carefully selected our R&D team from among the ladies of our auxiliary.
Esther Jean was our taster. She really did have the taste buds of a catfish. She also had the strong genetic characteristics of a Rhode Island Red, although the locals claimed it was from all the corn liquor she consumed. So, we sent out for some Original Recipe chicken and let her have at it.
Talking with her mouth full, she identified paprika, cayenne, and a handful of other spices that didn’t make sense.
Ethel was assigned to beating the corn flakes that were inside of a large zip-lock bag, with a meat hammer. She was an old pro at this, since it was the only way she could get her teenaged son, who was prone to apathy and inactivity in the practice of virtue, out of bed most mornings. Trudy was doing the same thing to a bag of unsuspecting saltines.
We merged the corn flakes and cracker crumbs together along with a cup of corn meal into a very large bowl, while Sally was beating the glue - egg whites.
We also precooked the chicken in boiling water for 20 minutes before breading because Mabel, our coater, was a bit squeamish at the sight of blood.
The end result?
Three sticks of dynamite and Bam! Bam! Bam!
We went to Peachez and ordered buckets.