Well we butchered chickens on Saturday, 43 to be exact! Luke and I were up early, prepping the area and getting everything ready. We had our two employees, Austin and Ryan, come to help us, and Austin also brought his friend Tom to assist. I ran over to Super Ron's to grab doughnuts for the crew. I know what you are thinking - farmers who try to be as sustainable and natural as possible eating doughnuts?! Okay, yea, sounds like an oxymoron, but it was 6:00 am and we had 43 chickens to butcher before the day got too hot - so yea, doughnuts for breakfast. Plus, I knew I was on the right track because there was a local construction company owner also buying doughnuts for his crew. And added bonus was that I got to chat with Arlene at the check-out line - she is one of my favorites there :) Read my previous post about living in a small town if you don't understand this. Arlene was wondering why I was up so early when I didn't have school (she always opens - so she sees me whenever I need to buy something last minute for school). I told her we were butchering chickens on the farm, and she was shocked to hear that someone my age knew how to do that. It is interesting how many adults I talk to: my mom, my aunts, my grandparents, random strangers, and it seems they all helped butcher chickens at some point in their life. But yet talk to anyone our age, and they wouldn't know how to start.
Chicken butchering is quite a process, and it always starts out slow. If you have ever watched Food, Inc. then that is what chicken butchering looks similar to on our farm. (As a side note, if you haven't seen that movie, watch it!) I won't gross you out with the gory details - some people just don't want to know how chicken butchering works, and I understand that. Let's just say we used an assembly line system that went pretty slick, and we were able to butcher, clean, and freeze 43 chickens in 4 hours, a pretty impressive feat. Being a little competitive, Austin even timed the entire process for the very last chicken, from death to the second it enters the cooling tub, and we were able to go through the whole process in just less than 10 minutes! Austin went record-breaking style and had the entire chicken cleaned in about 4 minutes, which is pretty impressive!
Now some people may be reading this post and thinking how inhumane it is. But again, industrial chicken butchering is not a pretty process, and many of the birds have to suffer and be in pain through it. We avoid that as much as possible. There death is very humane, and is grounded in scientific research. (Trust me, just to make sure Luke was reading his "Raising Poultry" book at 5:00 that morning). But yet people question us, question our methods. So with that, I'm going to go off on a little tangent.
People are so far removed from the food process system these days. I was too, until I started living on the farm. People roll their eyes at our food prices, would never pick free-range organic chicken over the much cheaper regular chicken, and they look at Luke and I and wonder why in the world we would want to farm in such a way that makes it difficult for us to leave the farm at the same time! I have been buying organic food since I was a sophomore in college. One of the only one of my friends who shopped at "Whole Foods," many questioned why I would fork out a lot more money just for organic food. Not that I'm a genius on the agricultural/industrial food system, but I know enough to stand confident when I decide I'm not going to put the more conventional food in my body. Agriculture has become a industrial process based off technology and mass production rather than an industry that grows good quality food for people.
Except the small scale farmer. And I'm not saying they even have to be certified organic or having organic practices, just the down-to-earth, small scale farmer. While they may use chemical fertilizers and pesticides, they likely use less because they are also going to be eating what they grow.
Other people scoff at me when I say I'm excited to butcher our pigs and enjoy the bacon, or to slow cook a chicken that we just butchered and then make some delicious fajitas. They feel sorry for the animals, and think I'm an inhumane person for being able to stand tall and say "Yes, I'm excited to eat that bacon, even if it means the pig I helped raise 4 four months has to die." Yes, they scoff and me, but then THEY eat meat. I'm not saying everyone has to be a vegetarian, I've been there, done that. But if someone is going to judge us for butchering chickens, then they should not be a person who partakes IN chicken. The same can be said for any other meat. And I will stand firm, knowing that those chickens pecked at the soil, found worms on rainy days, chased each other, established a Peking order, grazed among the tall grasses, walked around, stretched their wings, and died a humane death. And when I cook them, well they are extra delicious because I know all of that. I appreciate chicken more now that I have been a part of the butchering process. Every year that Luke shoots a deer during hunting season, he makes me come out and look at it. I cry, every time, probably related to my childhood obsession with Bambi. But Luke says, and I agree, that if I can't look my food in the eye and appreciate what it is giving me, meat for a year, then I don't deserve to eat it. And so I stay proud, knowing that I can answer Arlene's question, that yes, at my age, I do know how to butcher a chicken. If you want to be answer the question the same way, well, we do have 57 more chickens to butcher...
Monday, June 18, 2012
Friday, June 15, 2012
A "Simple" Task
Lately, I have had a lot of seemingly simple tasks become not-so-simple. It all started on Memorial Day weekend when I was doing a big spring cleaning (not that you could tell anymore). I was tired of the egg cartons and dozens of eggs on my counter, so I thought I would move them to a counter in the mudroom. That counter had 2 boxes on it: potatoes and garlic. The potatoes were storage potatoes that I was supposed to use over the winter but forgot about. I grabbed the box from the bottom - taking them outside was such a simple task - until I start to feel the ooze, all over my fingers. The ooze that meant the simple task was going to go very, very wrong. I quickly realized the potatoes had rotted and while I bolted for the door as fast as possible, I still had potato goo dropping all over me. I made it just outside the door when the bottom of the box broke open and all the potatoes fell out. Oh, the smell!!!! Disgusting. I was gagging the entire time. Luke was cutting the lawn, and he saw me shaking my hands and screaming in anger. He pulled over and asked what was wrong, and after I told him, he sort of chuckled and said, "sorry about that." I went and put on latex gloves, and slowly cleaned up the mess. I had to hose down the porch, scrub the mudroom rugs with carpet cleaner, and Swiffer the mudroom floor. That "simple" task was anything but! At least now I don't have the eggs in the kitchen anymore! And, the mudroom was very clean.
Then today, another simple task. Luke called me at around 5:00 and asked me to plug in the fridge/freezer in the garage in preparation for chicken butchering tomorrow. I plugged it in, and then opened the freezer. The freezer was all clean, but there was a weird smell from the area. Then, I opened the fridge door. This was NOT a simple task. It seemed that Luke and/or his employee Austin left their lunch and a few sodas in there last fall before unplugging the fridge for the winter. They obviously didn't check that the fridge was empty when it was unplugged, and disaster occurred. The winter caused the soda cans to freeze and explode, and then the spring heat caused the soda and lunch bag to mold. YUCK! What an utter disaster. I again grabbed some latex gloves (thank goodness we have those lying around), grabbed the lysol, a roll of paper towel, and a garbage bag. 20 minutes later and the fridge was clean, but yuck! Thankfully we don't use the fridge portion at all, just the freezer, but still, what a chore. All off the simple question "Can you plug in the fridge?"
Well, then of course my hypochondriac self needed to have a minor freak-out session. You see, my stress level is directly correlated with how much I worry, and I am VERY stressed out right now so I was bound to have a hypochondriac moment. It has been such a busy week - this was my first week off, so I took over restaurant deliveries, CSA deliveries, market set-up, am now assisting more with farm duties, plus just the regular business of cleaning the house, teaching summer school, etc - yea, my stress level is up there! And because of that, I did spend a serious 30 minutes after cleaning the fridge worrying about the mold I had cleaned up - what if I inhaled a spore?!?! Luke and my mom quickly talked me out of it, thank goodness.
Well, Luke got home, and we ate dinner around 8:45 at night. In preparation for chicken butchering, we needed to separate the 40 chickens we were going to butcher. So...a SIMPLE question - "Mel, will you spend 20 minutes and help me move chickens?" I'm definitely my father's daughter - I can't say no to helping, so of course I agreed. I put on my rubber boots, my deerskin gloves, and I was ready to go. It was going pretty swiftly - Luke would hand me a chicken, and he would grab another, and we would walk over to the other cage and set the birds in there. Besides my initial panic of how to hold them and keep them calm, Luke and I were enjoying ourselves. Then - it happened. He happened - a nasty little rooster. He freaked out in my arms and was flapping all over - and his claws were digging into my left arm pretty incessantly. I couldn't get him to calm and my arm hurt! He settled after about five seconds, and I walked over to drop him in the cage. Heading back to see my arm in the light of the four-wheeler, I could tell he had done some damage. Three solid scrapes, one deep enough to draw blood.
Luke could tell that I was very much nearing the edge that I don't reach to often, and the stress breakdown was definitely in sight. Luke said (and this is a very dark humor), "Don't worry Mel, no one messes with my wife, I'll kill him tomorrow. Literally, I'll kill him." I laughed so hard - it was perfect. Exactly what I needed to hear and my mood was instantly better. Even in all the stress and all the hardships lately, Luke knows exactly what to say to make me laugh! That is one of the reasons I love him!
The rest of chicken drop off went well, right until the very end. One more rooster got my left arm pretty good, he also drew blood. To add insult to injury, he pooped on my shirt. At that point I didn't care anymore. Luke and I were having a great time together, which was exactly what I needed. But as I put that last rooster in the cage I told him "Little shit - you may have won this battle, but tomorrow I win the war." Okay - again, a little dark, but those chickens have had a good life, better than most chickens that people eat. And they will be food for a family, a couple, a person, who can rest assured that these are healthy delicious birds that lived the right way.
Now, that I think of it - I better go - I better put hydrogen peroxide on my arm - chickens have a lot of bacteria....oh boy - don't want to go there. I need a good night sleep for the big day tomorrow. Now, just don't go around asking me to do a "simple" task, because I won't believe you.
Then today, another simple task. Luke called me at around 5:00 and asked me to plug in the fridge/freezer in the garage in preparation for chicken butchering tomorrow. I plugged it in, and then opened the freezer. The freezer was all clean, but there was a weird smell from the area. Then, I opened the fridge door. This was NOT a simple task. It seemed that Luke and/or his employee Austin left their lunch and a few sodas in there last fall before unplugging the fridge for the winter. They obviously didn't check that the fridge was empty when it was unplugged, and disaster occurred. The winter caused the soda cans to freeze and explode, and then the spring heat caused the soda and lunch bag to mold. YUCK! What an utter disaster. I again grabbed some latex gloves (thank goodness we have those lying around), grabbed the lysol, a roll of paper towel, and a garbage bag. 20 minutes later and the fridge was clean, but yuck! Thankfully we don't use the fridge portion at all, just the freezer, but still, what a chore. All off the simple question "Can you plug in the fridge?"
Well, then of course my hypochondriac self needed to have a minor freak-out session. You see, my stress level is directly correlated with how much I worry, and I am VERY stressed out right now so I was bound to have a hypochondriac moment. It has been such a busy week - this was my first week off, so I took over restaurant deliveries, CSA deliveries, market set-up, am now assisting more with farm duties, plus just the regular business of cleaning the house, teaching summer school, etc - yea, my stress level is up there! And because of that, I did spend a serious 30 minutes after cleaning the fridge worrying about the mold I had cleaned up - what if I inhaled a spore?!?! Luke and my mom quickly talked me out of it, thank goodness.
Well, Luke got home, and we ate dinner around 8:45 at night. In preparation for chicken butchering, we needed to separate the 40 chickens we were going to butcher. So...a SIMPLE question - "Mel, will you spend 20 minutes and help me move chickens?" I'm definitely my father's daughter - I can't say no to helping, so of course I agreed. I put on my rubber boots, my deerskin gloves, and I was ready to go. It was going pretty swiftly - Luke would hand me a chicken, and he would grab another, and we would walk over to the other cage and set the birds in there. Besides my initial panic of how to hold them and keep them calm, Luke and I were enjoying ourselves. Then - it happened. He happened - a nasty little rooster. He freaked out in my arms and was flapping all over - and his claws were digging into my left arm pretty incessantly. I couldn't get him to calm and my arm hurt! He settled after about five seconds, and I walked over to drop him in the cage. Heading back to see my arm in the light of the four-wheeler, I could tell he had done some damage. Three solid scrapes, one deep enough to draw blood.
Luke could tell that I was very much nearing the edge that I don't reach to often, and the stress breakdown was definitely in sight. Luke said (and this is a very dark humor), "Don't worry Mel, no one messes with my wife, I'll kill him tomorrow. Literally, I'll kill him." I laughed so hard - it was perfect. Exactly what I needed to hear and my mood was instantly better. Even in all the stress and all the hardships lately, Luke knows exactly what to say to make me laugh! That is one of the reasons I love him!
The rest of chicken drop off went well, right until the very end. One more rooster got my left arm pretty good, he also drew blood. To add insult to injury, he pooped on my shirt. At that point I didn't care anymore. Luke and I were having a great time together, which was exactly what I needed. But as I put that last rooster in the cage I told him "Little shit - you may have won this battle, but tomorrow I win the war." Okay - again, a little dark, but those chickens have had a good life, better than most chickens that people eat. And they will be food for a family, a couple, a person, who can rest assured that these are healthy delicious birds that lived the right way.
Now, that I think of it - I better go - I better put hydrogen peroxide on my arm - chickens have a lot of bacteria....oh boy - don't want to go there. I need a good night sleep for the big day tomorrow. Now, just don't go around asking me to do a "simple" task, because I won't believe you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)