Mama had shown me how to wring a chicken's neck by watching her do it. Now let me get this out right now so you understand my story right here. Mama never told me to wring a chicken neck, but by watching her do it I was pretty sure I could wring one easily enough if the time came for fried chicken or dumplins.
So one day I was playing out near the woodpile and happened to get a craving for some dumplins. I looked around to see if I could maybe catch an old fat hen because I knew old fat hens made the best broth for dumplin making. Young spring pullets made the best fried necks and backs--my lu...