Right now, I should be preparing to harvest Zebra Z, but instead I'm looking at holiday photos (still in my pjs), and writing drafts about our time at Isle of Pines. And in true procrastination form, I'm thinking that I need a cup of tea.
My emotions as we prepare to harvest Zebra Z are very different to those when we harvested Frizzle. Frizzle was a sweet chicken from the very beginning, who always liked cuddles. Zebra Z has always been an abnoxious, aggressive bird. You would think that this would make taking its life much easier, and it has for the girls, they haven't felt the need to hug Zebra Z (he wouldn't want them anyway), and I'm not going to miss him, but I am concerned that I won't be strong enough to use the swinging technique for him as he is a huge bird. I've voiced this to Mark, and he has volunteered to do the slaughter-but I don't think he has really thought about what he is taking on, it isn't easy. So with this, comes another uneasiness, that this bird won't be in a meditative relaxed state when it is harvested, like Frizzle was, as he just doesn't like a cuddle-and then there's the awful, selfish part of me that thinks the meat won't taste as good because the chicken isn't as relaxed as I would like it to be [everyone was thinking it, I just said it]. This is also a nine month old rooster, so I think we might need a good recipe.
I'm going to go and get ready for the harvest, and come back to this post once we have Zebra Z prepped for a meal. Yes, this is farming....and for all of those people who wonder how we can eat our pet, I challenge you to go vegetarian for the rest of your life, because knowing where your food comes from is important. It makes you appreciate it and respect it, more than going to the supermarket and picking up a plastic packet ever could.
-The Aftermath-
So, Mark did the kill for the first time, and now really understands what it feels like to take the life of a chicken. It really isn't easy. To be fair, I still did all the other challenging parts, like feathering and gutting, which I was better at than last time, but it is still very confronting. Yet again, I was perplexed as to how we can buy a butchered and cooked chicken for $10. That is so wrong on so many platforms.
Mark and I were both concerned about what a nine month old rooster would taste like, and at first we were just going to follow the masses and cook coq au vin, but we felt that this wasn't how to show our chicken respect. So Mark cooked a super simple chicken noodle soup, and the four of us thanked Zebra Z for the delicious meal. The dark, delicious chicken meat was the shining star of this dish, lifted by super clean, gelatinous stock that even made use of the chicken feet. This is how food should be eaten and appreciated, especially meat. It's the way our great grandparents lived, when if you wanted to have a Sunday night roast, then you had to harvest your own chicken. Sure, I can be heard saying this often, particularly to friends who want to talk about our chicken harvests, but I won't for a second try and pretend that this is how my family eats everyday-but I do aspire to it.......sssshhhh, don't tell Mark and Olivia.
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