The Thermometer

I bought an instant-read thermometer. One-second reading. This is a tool for people who want to know, and I want to know.

Chicken thigh. Done is 165. I put it in. 161. Fine. I gave it a minute. 164. Then I took it out and put it in again, a little to the left. 166.

That bothered me. Because a chicken doesn't have two temperatures in it. Or it does, and I'm the one who found out.

So I checked the other side. And the middle. And the other thigh, for comparison. By the end there were eleven holes in that chicken, and you could have played it.

My son came out and said, "Dad, it's done."

I said I knew. I'd known since the fifth hole. I said I was just confirming.

Every spot was 165 or better. Every single spot. I had confirmed it eleven times, which is a lot of times to confirm something that is true.

We ate at the picnic table. The juices had mostly left through the windows. My daughter looked at hers for a while and said it was very dry.

I said it was extremely safe chicken. And it was.