Don't eat while you read this. Please, for your sake, DON'T!!

Today we butchered roosters.  I have never been subjected to this before, and I am sure I will be having nightmares about it tonight.  I can see how people become vegetarian.

Mark's parents came out to teach us young folk how to butcher chicken.  The process begins with catching the bird and chopping their heads off.  Luckily I was at the grocery store while that happened.  The kids assured me that it was a sight to behold, and the chickens jumped around after the heads were cut off.

Once they were dead, the birds were plunged into boiling water until the butt or leg feathers pulled out easily.  Whether you should test using the butt or leg feathers depends entirely on how your family tree passed down their knowledge.  We were at an impasse with which method is better, so I strategically stayed away while someone else made the call (and did the actual testing).  I suggested putting both methods to a test, but they quietly ignored me.

Once the feathers pass the pull test, the steaming, full-feathered birds were put on tables so we could....pluck them.  Have you ever smelled a wet, hot, feathered, dead chicken?  Have you had the misfortune to touch a wet, hot, feathered, dead chicken?  Neither the smell nor the feel are pleasant experiences, but I dug down as deep as I could and this is what happened.....

Yep, that's me touching a half-plucked dead chicken.  Here's Mark with his bird.

He found some amusement in the act, as you can see below.  His chicken stood up and started talking to the kids.

Here is Mark's mom with a nearly finished bird.

After plucking, the birds were singed to burn off their random strands of hair.  And here, finally, is a fully plucked bird waiting to be chopped up.

After singeing the birds, they had to be gutted.  Gutting seems to require some skill which I am sure I do not possess.  Thankfully Mark's parents clearly knew what they were doing.  Not only did they know how to cut the bird open, but they knew what the inside body parts looked like AND they knew how to clean the gizzard.  I am fully convinced that pioneer children used chicken throats for straws.  

Here is Mark's dad trying to teach me a thing or two about gutting and cutting chicken.

Once the birds were sliced, the body parts were soaked in cold water and the blood was  magically pulled out of the tissue.  One more rinse and the birds were ready for consumption.

We did not eat these chickens tonight - I'm not ready for that yet - but we did try chicken heart and gizzard.  That was another interesting experience, and next time I am certain we will leave those pieces for others to enjoy.

All in all, it was a pleasant, interesting, and disgusting morning.  Mark is making plans to hatch 2013 spring chickens for fall butchering, so call him with your order.  First come, first serve.