Saturday, while David is out of town, Jeff and I slaughtered two more roosters (David is a vegetarian, and, yes, he knows there will be fewer roosters when he returns). Our little chicken population has too many roosters, and there’s about to be some more coming. Therefore, it was time to cull some from the flock. We didn’t take any of David’s favorite ones, which he was eventually able to narrow down to three. However, to amp up the drama of our story, we are announcing a major character death. We took down Big Boss. I thought he was the handsomest rooster, but it was time to shake up the pecking order and readjust the chicken politics in the barnyard. Two of David’s favorites, a Buttercup and a black Austrolorp, had recently been occupants of the Love Shack, where we isolated the chickens we wanted to breed. Upon returning to the flock, they were bumped down to the bottom of the pecking order. Poor Blacky has been hiding behind the food can in the chicken house, and Romeo has been hiding out in the hens’ nest boxes. At first we thought Blacky might avoid the demotion, when he took on Big Boss right as he emerged from the Love Shack. Blacky was making a strong standing against Big Boss, when Tom (Turkey Lurkey) suddenly butted in and chased Blacky into the fence and then under the chicken house. Blacky suffered big time loss of esteem with that.
Anyway, on to killing chickens! If you’d prefer not to read about the “gory” details, I’ll provide ample warning beforehand and you can just skip that part.
So, while the chickens were asleep Friday night, Jeff and I went down to the chicken house and grabbed three roosters and put them in separate little cages. Chickens are very easy to sneak up on at night, and we wanted them to fast before the slaughter. I wrote three roosters, because once again, Lucky has cheated death. Lucky has been slated for slaughter twice, but he escaped the isolation chamber the first time and this time we only planned to slaughter three roosters if some of our friends were going to be here to help. Based on our last experience, I thought I could only emotionally handle doing two roosters at a time unless I could have a more peripheral role. As it turned out, our friends were unable to make it, so Lucky was turned loose.
[Caution: here’s the bloody part – the next two paragraphs contain details of the slaughter.]
About midday on Saturday, Jeff carried the roosters up to the orchard (which was maybe the hardest part for me last time), and we tied them upside down from a tree branch by their feet. Jeff had read about chicken slaughter methods in “Country Living”, which listed ten different methods from best to worst. We’re using the best method for which we have all of the appropriate equipment. After tying them up, we placed a bucket underneath each one. Then as I hold their wings down, we respectfully thank the chicken for the food it’s providing us and Jeff quickly cuts the head off with a very sharp knife. This method is rated above the axe method, because the chicken can’t start running around spouting blood everywhere, which can get pretty messy. However, I am not able to completely hold the birds still and keep their wings from flapping sometimes. Big Boss kept fairly still for us, but the second rooster’s wings worked their way free, and as he flapped and flailed around, we got splattered with a bit of blood.
Once the heads are off and the birds are still, Jeff cuts them down and dips them in a pot of very hot water, which we brought out before tying up the chickens. The hot water dip makes it easier to pluck the feathers off. Once the feathers are plucked, we bring them into the kitchen, where Jeff removes the innards and whatnot, preparing the meat to be cooked. We stewed the first set of roosters, which was very yummy. This time we tried frying one. Bad call. The head of the flock tends to be a younger rooster, but Big Boss turned out to be anything but young and tender. I chewed on a few bites for several minutes and then was done, while Jeff was a little more persistent. He complained of a sore jaw the next day, though. We put the other bird in a crock pot, and that turned out quite well.
Big Boss - Still a tough bird
[/Caution: the rest is safe - the blood is over.]
I took some photos of our new additions, which we brought home the previous weekend.
These guys are 4 out of the 5 chicks we bought. Not pictured is the Blue-Laced Red Wyandotte that died. Two of the BLRWs are still having eye problems, which we are treating with an antibiotic, and they appear to be improving. The blonde one is a Copper Marans sport (my understanding of the term “sport” here is that it indicates the appearance of unusual characteristics in a particular breed- in this case, the light color). Marans are fairly rare, but they’re quickly becoming popular for their dark chocolate brown eggs.
In a separate rabbit cage, we have two Mottled Javas (another rare breed) and a White Silkie rooster (notice his light blue ears), whom we hope to breed with Brownie someday. Silkies are a bantam breed, so they stay on the small side. Little fluff balls!
If you’re getting lost in all of the breeds of chicken (just wait until we start talking more goat!), I was too when I first moved to Deerfield. Warning: reading this blog may lead you to become conversant in all things chicken and goat. You may find yourself saying, “Blue-Laced Red Wyandottes are gorgeous!”, “Silkies are cuddly.”, and “I think it would be fun to breed a whole new line of the Copper Marans sports.” At your next cocktail party, you can impress all of your friends with your new chicken knowledge. ;-)
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
Annie
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