Demand More

Friday, 21 April 2006

It has been an interesting day so far. The morning dawned cold and grey. No rain, but a damp spring air. I went to the neighbor's farm to help load some animals for slaughter. Due to mechanical problems and the rigidity of the ferry time-table the butcher did not arrive. We waited and talked. Why was he coming to take the animals away? We live in one of the last few remaining areas around where there are butchers who will come and slaughter your animals for you on the farm--no transportation of live animals at all. We can even pay extra to have the meat USDA inspected for re-sale. I had spoken with this butcher the day before. He never gave his reasons for hauling the live animals away, but the fact that I wanted my half-pig scalded and de-haired, rather than skinned seemed to justify the hoopla for him. Still he did not come.

I came home and did what I do most days here. Tended my flock, tended the flora in the polytunnel, tended my kinder in their schooling. After lunch I went back over to the neighbors for round two. This time I had brought the butcherman some recipes from Fergus Henderson's "The Whole Beast"--figuring he might be interested. He probably has more tidbits than he knows what to do with and being a thrifty family man he might appreciate the savings he can keep on his food budget with recipes like Rolled Pig's Spleen and Crispy Pig's tails. . . . I had also brought my list of cuts I need for an upcoming job I am going to do for the farmers': cooking for 100 guests of the farm in exchange for ownership of Torino, the calf.

We had Torino's older Brother and Aunt to load up and 5 bacon pigs. Butcherman arrived and got into position. The cattle were to be loaded first. They were suspicious, but these are not your usual wild-eyed range beasts. These are tame animals who trust humans and what they do for them. But Butcherman, being from "out there"--ie not a world where animals are respected for what they give us--hopped into the loading pen with a whip and started cracking it before I could say boo. He got the beasts wild-eyed and frenzied and wondered why they wouldn't load. If he hadn't done that they would have gone in the trailer with bread and a bit of coaxing from behind with a large gate panel to keep them moving. Well, I got the gate panel. Butcherman was told not to use the whip and we got the beasts into the trailer after a moderate amount of cafuffle.

Next come the piggies. Trailer in place. I'm holding the snorting, curious dudes in their house with a bit of fence and Butcherman says something about his "hotshot" prod. I told him there would be no need for that with these pigs. He went into the pen. A shake of some pig feed in a bucket and into the trailer they went. Although, one did get a bit freaked out and turned to run. I stopped him with my foot, gently placed on his cheek to keep him from hurting himself on the trailer gate. Very little fuss.

Butcherman didn't want my recipes. He took one look at the word Spleen and paled. He did take my order for the cut of meat I needed--a whole shoulder and front joint to the first rib for slow cooking. Unfortunately I couldn't get it with any skin on, because that pig was to be skinned. I did get him to keep the head on my half-pig. I also requested all the tails and feet. We shall see what I get back.

I have sausage casings on the way. I am reading up on far too many ways to handle my half-pig. I know where they've come from. How they have been treated up to today. I can only imagine, but perhaps I don't want to, how they will be treated later when they get to the mainland to meet their fate in the hands of Butcherman. Hopefully, our quiet testomony to the nobleness and willingness of these 7 creatures to give themselves up to their live's purpose will give him pause to think again before zapping them or whipping them out of the trailer. I can only hope. In this case, these were not my animals. Not my place to say how or what way they should be handled. I do know they have lived a 1000% better life than most animals raised for meat to be sold in supermarkets. But I will remember Butcherman and carry the lessons of today forward so when it is my animals, my meat and my decision everyone will know their part and play it to the best of their ability.