Slaughtering 101

Kind of like with hunting, I do not feel the need to do the slaughtering of the animals we’ll be preparing for this blog. But I did feel a certain responsibility to know what it feels like to take the life of another living thing.

I figured it should be something small and manageable (and edible), so a chicken seemed to make the most sense. Toward this end, we found a class in Kansas City taught by a self-described “urban homesteader,” Ben Wilson, who sells eggs, chicken meat, honey, and lots of other stuff from his farm Phantom Chicken to the local farmer’s market, Bad Seed. Bad Seed is the same farmer’s market that my cousin Bill happens to get a lot of his in-season produce for his own cooking adventures.

Phantom Chicken Farm logo

I forgot my phone camera in the car for this exercise, and maybe that is a good thing. Lately I tend to take utilitarian photos that probably would not have been all that appetizing. And frankly, I don’t know how much you all want to see. After we parked, Ben led us into a field, past a vegetable stand and Bad Seed’s waning tomato crop, still limping along in a droughty summer, past a chicken pen with wheels that makes it so they can graze the birds in a new patch of field each day. He took us to a small clump of trees deep in the field, where he already had a table set up in the shade, covered with newspapers, and sharp boning knives laying on top. Off to the side was a huge stock pot filled with water about to boil and a gas fire underneath. The chickens were also already there. There were four: one for Ben to demonstrate, one for each of us, and a fourth “just in case something went wrong” (don’t ask me what).

We were told that chickens really are not all that bright. They also appear to like to stay close to their people. In fact, one got out of the cage while we were standing there, and Ben wasn’t the least bit phased. The chicken just pecked at bugs and hung around nearby, seemingly unaware of the carnage that was about to take place right under her nose – or that she was going to be allowed to live another day. At Ben’s place the chickens just run free in the yard, which he said he enjoys watching while he has a cocktail on the porch after a long day’s work.

Ben Wilson showing off his urban homestead honeycomb

First, after giving us one last chance to back out, Ben demonstrated with a rooster. In addition to the pot of boiling water and the table, there was also what’s called a “killing cone.” The bird is inserted head down into the cone. This stabilizes the bird and also serves to calm it down. Once the bird is securely in the cone, you pull the head down gently, with your thumb and finger firmly under the chicken’s jaw and then, with a VERY sharp knife for purposes of speed and maximum humaneness, cut deeply (though not enough to cut off the head) in a half circle about a couple inches from the head. You continue to hold the head while the bird bleeds out.  This is done (with other livestock, too) so you don’t get excessively bloody meat. The closer they get to losing consciousness, they start to move around. But this isn’t anything like what you hear about chickens who meet their demise by having their heads cut clean off. Everything is very controlled and it’s over in probably a minute.

A rooster in the killing cone just before slaughter

You continue to hold the bird for an additional minute or so. They will go completely limp and sometimes their little eyes will close. The first time I watched it, it was kind of a sad and quiet time. Ben took the rooster out of the cone, laid it on the table, and felt its chest to make sure it wasn't breathing.  

When it was my turn to kill a chicken, I had to retrieve it from the cage myself, grabbing it by the feet and holding it upside down. There can be quite a bit of commotion at this stage, so he taught us to calm the chicken down by hanging it upside down by its feet and gently stroking it neck and chest. It worked every time he did it, kind of like rubbing the belly of an alligator to make it go to sleep.

I will say, this being the first time I've actually held a chicken, they are super sweet and very soft and fun to pet. I think I could enjoy having chickens. And I really didn't feel much like killing it after the couple minutes we bonded, but I was still committed. 

After two chickens and one rooster were done, we held them by the legs, and took turns dipping them into the boiling water. This loosens the feather follicle so they can be plucked more easily. After plucking, we gutted them and put them in a cooler to take them home.  

Ben, in his generosity, threw in the rooster he had killed. But I was later quite displeased to find that, after I had roasted it (for company, no less!), it was so tough I literally could not even cut it. I had no idea meat could be that tough. Someone told me my mistake was not boiling the **** out of it for several hours. Or better yet, leaving it to stew in a slow cooker for a day or so. I have my doubts.

Meanwhile, I have taken some time to view slaughtering of larger animals. Besides giving me a certain added connection to my food and understanding of the process that makes eating meat possible, I have a high respect for people who do this day in and day out. Not only does it take a lot of emotional toughness, but it also happens to be one of the most dangerous professions in the country.