Faith Works 1-12-24

Faith Works 1-12-24
Jeff Gill

Shredding my plans for the new year
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Let's just say there's a serious level of interest out there in shredded chicken.

Yes, a few let me know that they would rather eat truck stop sushi past its sell-by date than have a shredded chicken sandwich again, but they are emphatically in the minority.

For many, shredded chicken sandwiches are a comfort food up there with grilled cheese and tomato soup, or mashed potatoes with gravy. Warming, filling, comforting.

More than a few of you touched on the Depression era roots of a simple meal which could be made with what was on hand, and there was usually an opened sleeve of crackers and a can of boneless chicken in the pantry. Or as some reminisced, there was a time when canning included chicken along with cherries and tomatoes in the Mason jars on the shelves.

What I did not realize was the rich, complex diversity of this simple entree. I had a sense of its geographic reach, and the reality that the beating heart of shredded chicken territory is Licking County, Ohio. That heart isn't quite a center, because the range stretches east up to but not quite along the Ohio River, south hardly at all, and to the northwest I heard from friends in Wauseon confidently assuring me that if I got up there to visit them, they could find me a menu with shredded chicken on it.

Columbus is within the realm of the sacred sandwich, but Cleveland is not and Cincinnatians are expressing horror at the very concept as I described it to them (but look at what they do to their spaghetti). Toledo is contested ground, but Lima and Clyde and Bowling Green are within the holy lands, so to speak.

There is, of course, a website: chickensandwich.info which has over two decades of data, sporadically updated. It shows an isolated outpost in Athens, but since it was at a Whit's, I'm guessing that's the Licking County influence at work.

The website also provides almost twenty recipes, and links to many more. Because it turns out there are even MORE ways to make the humble shredded chicken than I realized. When I posted last week's column on my social media, I heard from many former concession chefs for middle and high school events, which took my previous lore focused around church basements to a whole new level.

Roasters are the key element in making shredded chicken for the masses, and also why it's tricky to make just a few of them. Big families might be able to pull it off, but if you're just cooking for one or two, you're likely to do something quite different from mixing up large cans of boneless chicken, crushing and stirring in a box of crackers, and adding a significant amount of canned soup.

I suspect there's also something to the time spent simmering away in that roaster, and how experienced concession stand parents maintain their product. Evaporated milk had never crossed my mind as an element of shredded chicken sandwiches, but it has been explained to me that it helps keep your vat of shredded from drying out, but it cooks down nicely in the mix.

The cracker conundrum still hovers over this question: how best to make shredded chicken? A surprising number of folks told me they used half Ritz, half saltines, because just the latter is (no surprise) too salty.

Central to this whole issue is: why here? Why us? What makes Licking County the home and heartland of shredded chicken? I'm on a pilgrimage close to home as we try to understand: why.


Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's made a few roasters full himself. How long will this topic drive the "Faith Works" column? Tell him yourself at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack77 on Threads.