Sam was really excited when he heard about it. We took pictures and said good-bye. I wanted to appreciate the realness of them alive and see how beautiful they were.
Sad nieces. These guys all have names, and have been pets...
All 4 of us Landbecks took a turn with the huge knife, practicing first to make sure the blade hit the stump flat and with enough force. I got emotional and repeated, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over, mostly talking to the rooster, but concerned and apologizing to JohnB, too, since I didn't have a perfect first chop.
If my kids chopped, I wanted them to pluck feathers, too, learn the whole process. Suzu freaked on that part, said it was too smelly and begged to get out of plucking. Plucking wasn't so hard, plunging the still bird in boiling water for ONLY 30 seconds makes the feathers pull right off very easily. We wore plastic gloves.
Learning how to gut them was probably the hardest part. I did one by myself after watching an expert friend of JohnB's (who moved here from the Ukraine and who had a real chicken foot as a toy when he was 6 year old--his grandma gave it to him after butchering day and he kept it for over a year). Then I ruined one when I accidentally nicked the spleen. Vivid green! Watched some more, and did lots of the washing of the birds and bagging.
After doing 10 roosters we were all hot and tired, and the last two roosters were inspected. Jen & John wanted to keep one, but weren't sure which one. Good things about both of them. One had a softer and lower crow. One often crowed at midnight. (BAD-rooster!) Magnificently colored feathers on both, with a nice iridescence!
And the winner! After putting them in with the hens and letting them decide.
I haven't been to their home in awhile and took pictures of some of my favorite things! It is great being related-by-marriage to another artist!
Front door thought:
Welcome friends and family, good-bye roosters...into the crockpot for Sunday dinner.
Actually, they are brine-ing in the fridge right now. Dissolve 1/4 cup of salt in water, add any meat, let sit in fridge for at least 4 hours; dump out salt water and cover meat with buttermilk. Let sit another 4+ hours and then cook. The science behind it: the salt water expands the meat cells, and then the buttermilk is absorbed into the cells and makes the chicken moister, yummier. We will see how tough these roosters are tomorrow.
4 comments:
Thanks for coming! You posted good pictures. Nothing too shocking! You were a great help.
An important experience to share with children -- one that in a way connects them with the lives of their ancestors. I remember plucking chickens with my mother and father, the hot water and smell. We shouldn't forget where meat comes from or where we come from.
It has probably helped me not be afraid to cut up a whole chicken. Skin and bones are part of the bird. If they still had feet on, it would be nice to make chicken foot soup.
As the world changes I want my children to be able to know how to feed their families with basic food.
Now that is really getting back to basics. I remember witnessing some chickens being killed for dinner at my Aunt's house in WVa. I was a pure bread city girl and was in shock - especially when one of the chickens went running off without it's head. AHHHH!
I can remember my Uncle dipping the chickens into the hot water and plucking them and then when my Aunt gutted the chicken she showed me some eggs that had been forming inside the chicken. It was facinating and gross all at the same time.
As my kids have grown up I've tried to always let them know which animals their meat has come from so that they can be more connected to their food but I think they would have a very difficult time witnessing the animals death. It might convince them to become vegetarians.
I know I would have been apologizing to the roosters as well.
Ugh! I just realized what it was that I ate the 2nd day I was in Thailand. We were up-country and the Branch President's wife cooked up a chicken soup as a welcome. It was obvious that it was the whole chicken in there, because of the parts I didn't recognize. They had served me a small round thumb-sized organ that kind of exploded in my mouth when I bit it. Jenni, Serge did not want those small round thumb-sized organs that we saved for him. He thought you wanted them. In the future, they will hit the slop bucket before any of the other innards.
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