This past Memorial Day weekend, our celebration was a little .... unorthodox.
Now, mind you, I am formerly a suburbanite. I was raised in the 'burbs of a big city and went on to live in various cities and suburbs in my young adult life. Now that we have settled down and decided to start this farm, I am surprising myself (and anyone who knows me) by doing things that I never thought I could do..... like butcher a chicken.
Growing up, I knew where our meat came from (and no, I didn't think it was the local grocery store). I knew it was raised on a farm somewhere, then it was killed and cut up and packaged into the nice little packages that we bought at the store. I was fine with not knowing the gruesome details. Until I married a hunter.....
WARNING: This post is NOT for the faint of heart, PROCEED WITH CAUTION. (And please protect the eyes of any little ones looking at the computer screen.)
I'll start with some pictures of the prep area...
We wanted this to also be a learning experience but didn't want to traumatize our children. So we put Hunter in charge of writing down the weights of each chicken as we finished butchering it.
Albeit a little awkward, but we had planned to "take care" of the chickens without really planning. So we had to improvise and came up with this. Honestly, I think we did pretty well. The cones worked better than we thought they would -- we wanted to get some that were made of stainless steel but couldn't find any locally and didn't want to pay the hefty shipping cost to order them online. For those of you who don't understand what happens at this stage, this is where you (gulp) slit the chickens' throat to let it bleed out. like this:
My son - the record-keeper |
The slaughter site |
The kill |
Contrary to popular belief, you shouldn't just cut a chicken's head off - it can and will run around without it until they fall over dead. Not only is that messy, but it tightens up their muscles and locks their feathers in, making it difficult to pluck and butcher.
The scalding pot |
The plucker |
The rubber "fingers" grab the feathers and pull them out. The occasional squeaking is the sound of the chicken's skin rubbing against the rubber. About 2 minutes later, the chicken is plucked and looks like this:
A nicely plucked chicken.. |
Sometimes, the neck is cut too much and by the time the chicken hits the plucker, this shoots out:
oops! |
All in all, we ended up putting 112.5 pounds of chicken into the freezer. The chicks cost us $53.41 from the local farm store (we bought 33 but lost a few), 2 bags of chick starter (feed) was about $36.69 and lasted the first 2 weeks, and the final 6 weeks they ate 2 bags of gamebird feed each week totaling $213.77. (It was like a take-home layaway plan for our food -- we paid into it weekly.) Grand total = $303.87, including tax. So our farm-fresh, pastured chickens cost us $2.70 a pound. And I can get at least 2 meals (if not 3) out of one chicken. Around here, this type of chicken typically sells for $4 per pound whole, more if cut up. Not only did we save money, but we know how our chickens were raised.