Coops Dad
Crowing
I went a little crazy with meat chickens this year. The first batch was from Orscheln's; I went in for 5 but I felt they wanted me to buy more because they discounted them to $1.50 each since they hadn't sold in a week, so I bought 10. They were butchered at @8 weeks. In the meantime, I walked into Tractor Supply and they had a fresh batch of Cornish Cross chicks , fat and fuzzy as tennis balls. I was chatting with the chicken attendant and she said that if I wanted a bunch, she had some in the back that she'd let me have for .50 cents apiece.
What could I do? I bought 15, then went back for another 10 because hi, my name is Robb and I'm an addict. And a glutton for punishment.
Over the last 2 months, I've spent waaaayyyy too much time feeding, watering, killing, plucking, butchering and freezing chickens. Not just the Cornish Xs but also a few extra Ameraucana roosters and a few RIR roosters that found their way into an order of sexed RIR pullets. But it's paid off with a chest freezer filled with poultry and other assorted beasts.
To make plucking a little less tedious, I bought a rubber fingered drum that attaches to an electric drill and zip tied it to a board. Another BYC member recommended it, and it has made the worst part of the chore much less so. What NO ONE told me, not even the reviews on Amazon, is that the thing is literally a s**t flinging menace. Seriously. You dunk the bird into hot water then press it against this 5" drum covered in 4" rubber fingers spinning at 500-600 rpm. Yes, it removes the feathers pretty well. Yes, it will beat your hands black and blue if you misjudge where the blur of rubber ends and the blur of departing feathers begins. Yes, it will throw the feathers into what you could call a decorative stripe in your grass.
But, most importantly, it will turn EVERYTHING other than feathers into a violent mist. Dunk water, blood, poo forced out by the pummelling fingers of spinning destruction. Everything that comes off of or out of a headless chicken will be aerosolized and sprayed everywhere.
I could taste it for hours afterwards no matter how many Shiner Bocks I drank trying to wash the flavor out of my mouth. The mist molecules stuck to the insides of my nose for days; at least I hope it was nasally-lodged mist molecules I was smelling and not residual stink stuck to my skin. I really did try to snort a bit of Shiner up my nose out of a bottlecap to try to get some relief. Did not work but now my son has a new story to tell his buddies.
I eventually got the hang of standing off to the side enough to not wear the full spray the way Armenian bros wear Drakkar Noir. The Wheel Of Destruction is still a Tier One menace, though.
Luna, aka Murder Dog, stays close to the processing station because she knows she'll be getting the lungs, butt nugget/oil gland and other trimmings. She also helped herself to a neck.
My mother-in-law gave me a vacuum bagger a while back and we've been using it to snuggle the chickens into compact portions that are less likely to freezer burn. I love this thing. I picture myself using it to shrink wrap bricks of $100 bills and stacks of Krugerrands but, instead, they're legs, thighs, wings and breasts. I also have bags holding a liver, heart and neck each; I call them my "gravy bombs". Simmered in the oil and juices from a roasted or crockpotted chicken, it makes a great base for an excellent gravy.
I've raised and processed a handful of meat chickens over the last four years but this year was quite an adventure. The final tally is 34 chickens, three turkeys and three ducks. My wife went from "I could never eat an animal that I knew was alive" to "This tastes amazing- I wish my mom would try it! Should we get more meat chickens? Can we find a breed that we can raise and hatch ourselves?"
It's been a great year so far.
What could I do? I bought 15, then went back for another 10 because hi, my name is Robb and I'm an addict. And a glutton for punishment.
Over the last 2 months, I've spent waaaayyyy too much time feeding, watering, killing, plucking, butchering and freezing chickens. Not just the Cornish Xs but also a few extra Ameraucana roosters and a few RIR roosters that found their way into an order of sexed RIR pullets. But it's paid off with a chest freezer filled with poultry and other assorted beasts.
To make plucking a little less tedious, I bought a rubber fingered drum that attaches to an electric drill and zip tied it to a board. Another BYC member recommended it, and it has made the worst part of the chore much less so. What NO ONE told me, not even the reviews on Amazon, is that the thing is literally a s**t flinging menace. Seriously. You dunk the bird into hot water then press it against this 5" drum covered in 4" rubber fingers spinning at 500-600 rpm. Yes, it removes the feathers pretty well. Yes, it will beat your hands black and blue if you misjudge where the blur of rubber ends and the blur of departing feathers begins. Yes, it will throw the feathers into what you could call a decorative stripe in your grass.
But, most importantly, it will turn EVERYTHING other than feathers into a violent mist. Dunk water, blood, poo forced out by the pummelling fingers of spinning destruction. Everything that comes off of or out of a headless chicken will be aerosolized and sprayed everywhere.
I could taste it for hours afterwards no matter how many Shiner Bocks I drank trying to wash the flavor out of my mouth. The mist molecules stuck to the insides of my nose for days; at least I hope it was nasally-lodged mist molecules I was smelling and not residual stink stuck to my skin. I really did try to snort a bit of Shiner up my nose out of a bottlecap to try to get some relief. Did not work but now my son has a new story to tell his buddies.
I eventually got the hang of standing off to the side enough to not wear the full spray the way Armenian bros wear Drakkar Noir. The Wheel Of Destruction is still a Tier One menace, though.
Luna, aka Murder Dog, stays close to the processing station because she knows she'll be getting the lungs, butt nugget/oil gland and other trimmings. She also helped herself to a neck.
My mother-in-law gave me a vacuum bagger a while back and we've been using it to snuggle the chickens into compact portions that are less likely to freezer burn. I love this thing. I picture myself using it to shrink wrap bricks of $100 bills and stacks of Krugerrands but, instead, they're legs, thighs, wings and breasts. I also have bags holding a liver, heart and neck each; I call them my "gravy bombs". Simmered in the oil and juices from a roasted or crockpotted chicken, it makes a great base for an excellent gravy.
I've raised and processed a handful of meat chickens over the last four years but this year was quite an adventure. The final tally is 34 chickens, three turkeys and three ducks. My wife went from "I could never eat an animal that I knew was alive" to "This tastes amazing- I wish my mom would try it! Should we get more meat chickens? Can we find a breed that we can raise and hatch ourselves?"
It's been a great year so far.
