Warning: This blog post is probably not for the squeamish or vegetarians amongst you as it's primarily about butchering. You have been warned...
The farm here has an on site butchers shop and is able to slaughter their own meat (Saskatchewan is one of two Canadian provinces where slaughtering doesn't have to be done at a provincial abattoir). As well as slaughtering their own pasture reared beef, chickens and pigs, they also sometimes slaughter and butcher for other local farmers. This is one of the reasons I chose this farm - as a meat eater, I want to understand the process better and make that connection between the animal and the food I eat. This isn't a question of whether meat eating is right (I've already made my decision on that), but about understanding what it really means to eat meat.
Jumping in at the deep end, on Tuesday I killed a chicken. I've been saying for the past couple of years that if I had the opportunity, I wanted to do it. Not because I actually want to kill a chicken, but because I feel that I should be prepared to do it if I'm willing to eat meat. Well, the farmer gave me that opportunity and I did it. In fact I killed two (the first one the farmer was literally holding my hand, showing me where to cut) and the second I did alone. And it was fine. I'd expected to feel upset or shaken by it, but I didn't. My biggest worry was doing it wrong and putting the chicken through unnecessary pain or trauma, but it was all so quick and efficient.
My chicken butchering was actually part of a two day operation where we butchered and packaged 450 chickens. Some teenagers from local farms come and help, along with the farmers, wwoofers and some farmers from down the road (it was actually their chickens we were butchering on this occasion). Day 1 is the butchering day, where the chickens are killed, plucked, gutted, and their necks and feet cut off. It was a big production line where everyone had a job (I cut off the necks), and took us about 4 hours to do all 450. The second day was preparing and packaging for sale. We packaged about a third as whole chickens, and the rest were cut into breasts, wings and quarters (leg and thigh together). Again, it was a big production line (I was helping with cutting off the breasts, something I'm now pretty speedy at after doing 80 of them...).
The entire operation didn't really upset me - all the animals were treated with care and respect, and the butchering done with minimal trauma to the birds. I can't imagine it's such a nice environment in a large scale abattoir. It was interesting to see the whole process - from a trailer full of live birds to a fridge full of chicken pieces packaged up and ready for sale. At this time of year, this is a weekly operation (pastured chicken rearing is very seasonal due to the extreme weather), so next week we'll be processing another 500 odd. The chickens have been raised to incredibly high standards (they get moved to fresh pasture twice a day), and if I'm going to eat chicken, this is the chicken I want to eat. Having seen the true reality of what this means, I feel that I've made my peace with it and am happy to continue eating it.
Yesterday I went out with Sam (the farmer) to butcher a cow. He slaughters all the farm's meat cows, but on this occasion it was a neighbour's milk cow who had broken its leg which wouldn't heal. The process was quick - a single shot from a gun, straight through its forehead and the cow dropped dead. It was sudden but again, I was surprised it didn't affect me more. The cow was then hung up and its neck cut to drain out the blood in the field. Back in the butchers shop, I learnt how to skin (the hides are saved and sold for leather), gut (not smelly) and split (i.e. cut in half) it. Then it passes to the butcher (although it can't be sold for human meat as the adrenaline caused by the injury taints the meat, meaning it's only sell-able as dog food).
Today was pig day, and we went out to the area where they're kept (they get moved into a fresh piece of woodland around 2 acres in size every week) and I herded the pigs towards the food and water while Sam selected the animals and shot them. Back at the shop, I helped with the skinning (harder than a cow) and gutted one of them with Sam's supervision. Not a task I imagine I'll ever have cause to repeat, but very interesting to do and something I'm glad I've done.
All in all, it's been an intense few days. I've been involved in the slaughtering of chickens, cow and pigs (by choice - the farm don't make you be part of anything unless you want to be). Seeing the animal through the process, you see that there's so much more to the animals than the chicken breasts, the steak or the bacon. You see which parts are usable and what happens to the rest (anything that can't be used in any other way is composted) and I feel like I have a much better idea of what meat comes from where (hopefully this will improve further as I'll get a chance to help the butcher next week). The way the farm here treat their animals throughout life and death is with the utmost care and respect, and I can't fault any stage in the process. It's made me think a lot about how the slaughter/butchering process happens elsewhere, and made me really question what meat I'm happy to eat. It's made the whole issue a lot more real for me, and definitely given me a lot to think about.
More about the rest of the farm another day....
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