Back in the 1980’s my husband and I lived in Thimphu Bhutan. Fascinating as it was there were certain challenges. One challenge was how to get a chicken, sort of a staple for our Western palates. So at dinner tonight here in Seattle we were served chicken. To make conversation I aSked my husband if he remembered driving to Simgatoka about 7 miles from Thimphu to buy a chicken for our evening meal. This was a fairly regular occurrence which I tended to avoid. My husband drove and I was in the passenger seat with a 3000 foot drop to my right. It always felt as if he were far too near that precipitous drop. Of course it never happened since we are still here to tell the tale. He couldn’t remember the name of that chicken farm, but I sort of did and a Google search confirmed my guess. Fun times.
I remember heading up to that and they’d freshly kill the chickens selected then and there to take home
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