Alright, so I’ve been meaning to share this little experiment of mine for a while now. It’s about that stuff people talk about – fried chicken gizzards, or “Ji Nei Jin” as some call it. Heard a lot of chatter, you know, about what it’s supposed to do for you. Good for digestion, helps with this and that. So, I thought, why not give it a whirl? See what all the fuss is about.
Getting Started with the Gizzards
First things first, I had to actually get my hands on the stuff. Now, you can’t just grab any old gizzard from the butcher. This is about the inner lining, the tough, yellowish membrane. Some old-timers, they buy the fresh gizzards, clean out that lining themselves, wash it, dry it in the sun, and then fry it. Man, that sounded like a whole production. I’m all for doing things properly, but that’s a commitment.
So, I took a bit of a shortcut. I remembered this little traditional herb shop tucked away in an old part of town. Went there, and sure enough, they had bags of the dried, already cleaned gizzard linings. Looked like crinkly, yellow-brown bits of… well, dried membrane. Not the prettiest sight, I’ll tell ya.
The “Cooking” Part, If You Can Call It That
The shopkeeper, a wise old fella, told me the traditional way is to fry it until it’s puffed up and a bit charred, then grind it into a powder. Okay, I thought, I can handle frying. So, I got home, took out a small, clean pan. No oil, he said, just dry fry it. I chucked a handful of those dried linings into the pan on low heat. Started stirring them around. They began to curl up, get a bit darker, and yeah, they puffed up a bit. The smell was… unique. Not bad, not good, just… earthy and chicken-y, I guess.
Once they looked sort of crispy and a bit browned – not burnt, I was careful – I took them off the heat and let them cool. Then came the grinding. I don’t have one of those fancy herb grinders, so I used my old coffee grinder that I keep for spices. Made sure it was super clean first, of course. Whizzed those crispy gizzard bits up. It turned into a fairly fine, yellowish powder. Looked a bit like cornmeal, actually.
Taking the Plunge: My Gizzard Powder Journey
So, now I had my homemade (well, semi-homemade) fried chicken gizzard powder. The moment of truth. How to take it? Some folks mix it with honey, some with congee or rice. I decided to just try a teaspoonful mixed with a bit of warm water. Stirred it up. It didn’t dissolve completely, more like a suspension. And the taste? Well, it tasted like… ground, fried chicken gizzard lining. No surprise there. Not delicious, but not gag-worthy either. Just a bit bland and gritty.
I took it for about a week, usually in the morning. Was I expecting miracles? Maybe a little. You hear all these stories. Did my digestion suddenly become ironclad? Did I feel a surge of energy? Honestly, it’s hard to say. Maybe I felt a little… less bloated after big meals? Or perhaps that was just me paying more attention to what I was eating because I was doing this gizzard thing. You know how that goes, the placebo effect is a powerful beast.
My kid, who’s a picky eater – and yeah, I’ll admit, I was kinda hoping this might discreetly help his appetite like some old wives’ tales suggest – he saw me mixing my “special powder” one morning and gave me that suspicious look. No way he was trying that.
So, What’s the Verdict From My End?
Look, this whole gizzard experiment was interesting. It felt like I was connecting with some old-school wisdom, or at least trying to. The process of preparing it, even my simplified version, was a bit of a throwback. Did it change my life? Nah. Did it cause any harm? Nope, not at all.
It kinda reminded me of when my grandpa used to insist that a shot of bitter gourd juice every morning was the key to eternal youth. He lived to be 90, so who am I to argue? But he also walked five miles a day and ate a pretty simple diet. Maybe the gizzards are like that. Part of a bigger picture, or maybe just something people did because it was available and seemed to help someone, somewhere, once upon a time.
I reckon if you’re having serious digestive issues, you should probably see a doctor, not just grind up chicken parts in your coffee grinder. But as a little experiment, or if you’re curious about these traditional things? Sure, why not. I’ve still got a little bag of the dried linings. Maybe I’ll try frying them up again someday when I’m feeling particularly adventurous. Or maybe I’ll just stick to enjoying my chicken gizzards in a nice stir-fry, the way I usually do.
