Sticky Chicky Sweet Sue's whole canned Dump Chicken

Yes, I used one of those whole terrifying chickens in a can

In this week’s K-Pop newsletter…

Oh snap, I fooled you! This newsletter has nothing to do with K-Pop at all!!!

One of you out there is shaking your head in shame, saying “Dannis, you got me. You really, really, got me with that one. Socially-distanced fist bump.”

Again, as usual, every week’s struggle: “Oh shit. What am I going to write about this week? I can’t think of anything. I’m hosed, I’m hosed hosed hosed. I need inspiration.”

With the stress of current events constantly interrupting my thoughts, it’s hard to come up with ideas that’ll motivate me to move from the couch to my laptop. So I looked deep within myself for motivation.

“Dannis,” I mumbled to myself, “Even the greatest food writer in history like yourself can struggle with innovation. There’s only so many stinky butt jokes you can make before everyone goes away and leaves you to die alone. You better think of something. Right now, clown.”

I sat up and shouted.

“I CAN RIP OFF ONE OF MY OLD ARTICLES BECAUSE IT’S BEEN LONG ENOUGH FOR ANYONE TO REMEMBER WHAT I DID FIVE YEARS AGO!”

I am my own inspiration. You are witnessing greatness.

Years ago, on my old blog, The Pizzle, I wrote about this vulgar culinary creation, Sweet Sue’s Whole Canned Chicken.

I mean. How could I not? It’s a whole dead animal baked in its own coffin. That’s fucked up. But plagiarizing myself completely didn’t quite seem right, so I used my next best resource: Google.

I googled “Worst Chicken Recipe Ever" and one of the hits that came up was a recipe for something called Sticky Chicky Dump Chicken.

If you say that aloud three times in front of a mirror, you’ll actually summon me. Don’t be surprised when I appear naked and intoxicated, chewing on a half-eaten taquito.

I mean…you know I had to make this recipe, right?

What’s marvelous about it is that it only has a two star review. Two out of five. I don’t think you understand how terrible a recipe has to be on a lousy site like Food.com to warrant a two star review.

Here’s some gems:

“I made this tonight. We had pizza.”

Devastating.

“It was also visually unappealing.”

Let’s also consider the fact that this reviewer had already made “a batch of various dump chickens.”

They can’t all be losers, though.

Who doesn’t like peanut butter on ham? Thanks

I need you all to know something.

Sweet Sue’s whole canned chicken is $25.

Twenty-five dollars. It is fairly substantial at around three pounds, but $25?!

Death.

While I’m aspiring for this newsletter to magically become my full time job, sometimes my posts count as a loss due to ingredients and dumb shit.

But you know what?

Totally worth it.

At least the prep wasn’t going to be too much.

The sauce only has three ingredients: Soy sauce, ketchup, and peanut butter. But after mixing it, it was clear that this was less of a sauce and more of a thick paste.

One time my sister and I were playing in the trees behind our backyard and we found a barrel full of rain water.

We grabbed a big stick and stuck it in the water, fishing around, and it caught on a decomposing carcass that looked suspiciously like this. She screamed and ran away and we never went back there again. What wonderful memories I have of childhood.

Davida and I are watching Hannibal on Netflix (it’s not very good, but we can’t stop watching it, just like you can’t stop reading this dumpster fire of a newsletter).

Every episode, someone dies and the crime scene looks exactly like this picture. Probably smells the same too. Sweet Sue whole canned chicken smells distinctly of sulfur. It’s nearly overwhelming to the point where it’s perfectly natural to wonder whether or not Sweet Sue is trying to poison you.

Spoiler alert: Sweet Sue hates you.

Considering this was a paste and not a sauce, I had to manually apply it to the chicken.

The chicken disintegrated to my tender touch and I nearly passed out. Once I came to my senses, I popped it into the 350°F preheated oven and hid under our coffee table.

After about 30 minutes, I took it out and cried.

I mean…

Oh my God. Hnggggghhhhhhh.

The sauce didn’t even bother melting. It just said, “Fuck you, I’m hellbent on truly being the worst chicken recipe ever written.” And somehow, the chicken that was once like a star collapsing in on itself, evolved into a neutron star made entirely of canned poultry. I sawed off a piece of chicken breast and chiseled off a piece of dessicated peanut butter mash.

It tasted like a chewy rotten egg with sour dehydrated peanut butter. I thought a little more deeply and recognized the taste.

It tasted like all of 2020 smashed together in one petrifying bite.

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Well, that was a trip.

Sometimes I have other people to thank for the inspiration, but this time I’m just pointing directly at myself.

If you liked reading about this and seeing an entire canned chicken get smothered in a weird peanut butter sauce, give it a share (seriously, it does wonders for the newsletter):

And as always, if you haven’t signed up for a paid subscription yet, think about it. You’re paying for my dream job, which is ruining the food you love.

Venmo: @dickholedannis

Please, please, please, be safe.