I picked around the gristle and occasional tiny delicate bone.
The cheese made up for that.
I have always viewed proteins as vehicles for cheese, or
reasons to justify tortillas, chips, or pasta as couriers.
She didn’t have a name for it, even though we ate it
once a week. My dad must have asked nonchalantly one evening,
“Are we having that chicken shit again?”
I delighted in being allowed to cuss when asking what was for dinner.