It was chicken curry for dinner last night.
Each of us had a bowl of well, curry soaking a thigh-and-leg part. As I transferred the piece from my bowl to my plate, I notice something dangling and upon close inspection, I realized that it was the chicken's heart. Please don't ask me how chicken organs are connected, but there it was, a small heart. Dangling. Off the thigh. Connected. Dangling.
I looked at my brother and said do you want this?, pointing my knife to the organ; he said he'd take it if I didn't want it.
(No. I don't want no chicken hearts.)
I sliced it off my dinner and placed it on his plate. He forks it and puts it in his mouth.
(Okay, maybe I like the chicken hearts in this certain Brazilian place.)
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