Sweet & sweeter

Chicken? Again? Blame it on the local Monterey franchisee. It’s pitifully understocked, among many other shortcomings. I ask for tenderloin, baby back ribs, ox tongue, anything — and the salesperson refers me back to the main display of standard chicken and pork cuts. I spy some packaged meat in the chest freezer — unlabeled, of course (there’s another gripe), so then I ask what those are. The girl gives me a blank stare before sauntering over to the prep area to ask someone else. That’s when I decide on chicken. But not Monterey’s (ano sila, sinuswerte?). I get out of there and make for the wet market.

Since we’re on the subject, let’s talk about ChickenJoy. The last time I was at a Jollibee was in Tacloban with my father. When his order arrived (I had cardboard, er, burger steak), we were both taken aback at how puny the chicken pieces were (and they were already coated with flour, mind you). Worse, they were drumsticks! (Wings being the only chicken Pa likes.) Oh, I won’t lie. I was secretly delighted seeing him dismayed. That should give him pause the next time he steps into a Bee.

Not that the chicken at the mercado are any better. If Jollibee can’t source them any bigger, how much more my suki? It’s a slow day and he’s whiling his time scraping gunk off his cutting board. Eeewww. On my quease scale, this is a 7 — major gross, but still nothing compared to what goes on in the supermarket next door, as recounted to me by someone who once worked the back-end of the meat area there. “It’s disgusting,” he’d said. “The new stock comes in and they simply pile it on top of the old. Then management makes a big fuss over bathroom breaks, so we piss in the walk-in freezer to save ourselves the hassle.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“You never asked, but where do you think I buy my meat?”

Ah, where indeed? I go home with chicken legs. I don’t even bother to wash them; if roasting can’t kill whatever cooties are on/in the meat, why should a water bath? (I’m not encouraging you to follow my lead, just my logic.) In any case, you should try these roasted chicken legs, based on a recipe for garlic-honey chicken I stumbled upon on YouTube. Of all the dishes I have so far made using sweet soy sauce (it’s the main marinade ingredient here), this one stands out as a clear winner. It’s so good that Pa doesn’t complain about the sweetness (surprisingly, not that pronounced despite the kecap manis and honey) or the choice of meat (“Chicken? Again?”). Try it on your kids. It should keep them away from the Bee for a while.

Honey-Soy Chicken

This recipe also works well for chicken wings (Asian-style buffalo, anyone?) or breast. You can remove the skin, but that’s the best part of the dish, if you ask me. For a spicier dish, add more hot sauce to the marinade.

• 1 kilo chicken thighs + legs

For the marinade:
• 2 teaspoons salt
• 2 tablespoons kecap manis
• 1 tablespoon granulated garlic/garlic powder
• ½ teaspoon sriracha or any hot sauce

For the glaze:
• 1 tablespoon honey
• 1 tablespoon hot water
• 1 teaspoon kecap manis

1. Combine marinade ingredients in a bowl. Add chicken and coat well. Let sit in the refrigerator for at least 4 hours (preferably overnight).
2. One hour before using, remove chicken from refrigerator. Preheat oven to 350℉. Meanwhile, mix glaze ingredients in another bowl and set aside.
3. Arrange chicken (skin-side up) on a rack over a roasting pan and put inside the oven.
4. After 20 minutes, remove pan from oven and brush chicken all over with the glaze. Return pan to oven, wait 10 minutes, then repeat brushing. Turn temperature up to 400℉ and cook chicken for another 15 to 20 minutes or until golden brown. Serve immediately.