Love to grill. Love to do drunken chickens. Have always shied from spatchcocking due to my self perceived poor butcher skills. Fear, not to be confused with the incredible movie starring Mark Wahlberg (“Hey Mr. Walka”), is a crippling adversary. Time to tackle the enemy once again. All I had to do was run my kitchen shears along both sides of the backbone and remove it. From there, I took my knife and gave the breast bone a slight split, applied some hand pressure to break it and bam….a flattened chicken. Stick the wingtips in and grill a perfect chicken in little to no time. File this one under stupid easy. It’s incredible what we think we can’t do because of what we perceive or are led to believe we can’t.