First Slaughter

It went a bit easier than I think either of us expected. While we don’t view taking a life lightly, it was very grounded. Chickens don’t scream or make any otherwise resonating sounds at death. We didn’t get a clean separation of head from body with the first blow of the hatchet so we’ve noted the need to get the hatchet sharpened in the future. The entire chore probably took 20 minutes and we weren’t really rushing things.

We set up the “bayou” burner with our largest stock pot (another note: a larger pot would be handy) and got it steaming hot. An appropriate bucket for bleeding out the bird was located as was a makeshift chopping block and the hatchet.  We put a drop cloth on the ground to make collecting errant feathers a bit easier.  The back patio was still covered by a portable car port that we use for Burning Man and one of our plastic tables was still set up from an event we hosted the week prior.  The cover from the rain and washable work surface were handy.

The only challenge we ran in to was the fact that a slightly nervous chicken isn’t going to stick his neck out there for you.  Add to that, the fact that he is a fully feathered rooster and we quickly imployed a trick we’d seen in some “how to” instructions.  We essentially used a rake, or pitch fork, in our case and slide the tines on either side of his neck below the head.  This allowed me to stretch his neck slightly so Bengt could ensure he had a visible target.

Two chops and it was done, a little blood on the chopping block but most of it went in to the bucket.  Once the bleeding slowed and the final involuntary thrashes had stopped the bird was dunked in to the scalding water for a few minutes.  Once removed from the water, the feathers came out in handfuls.  A bit easier than I expected.  Once mostly cleaned the neck and feet were removed and we moved inside to complete evisceration in a more sanitary environment.

Bengt is a real trooper and handled the nasty work.  Once that was done we cooked up the offal for our pets rather than waste any portion of the life we’d just taken.  Even Bengt’s generally adventurous palate hasn’t taken him there just yet.  We added the cleaned and quartered bird and the scrubbed down feet to a stock pot with water, a chopped onion, a few garlic cloves, salt, and pepper and let it gently boil and simmer for a few hours.  After that time we strained out the meat, sorting it from the exhausted onions and bones, and set it aside.  The remaining 3 quarts of stock was by far some of the most luxurious we’ve ever made and was set aside to cool so we could remove most of the fat.

We had originally planned to make stew as that is the most common use for tougher birds, but it didn’t seem to really honor the life we took.  It seemed more of a way to simply render it edible and move on.  So instead I opted to make what Bengt has been calling Rooster Risotto.  I’d just call it chicken and mushroom risotto.  The unctuousness of the stock certainly lended itself well to risotto (and we still have a couple quarts left).  I simply added 5 or 6 rehydrated dried morels (and their rehydrating water) and a quick grate of parmesean cheese to an otherwise basic risotto.  I then nestled a portion of the meat on top and added a drizzle of truffled olive oil to finish.  The earthiness of the morels and truffle oil really elevated the depth of the meat.  The al dente nature of the risotto also helped balance the chewier nature of the meat.

Rooster Risotto

Most people seem to regard aged birds as practically inedible but we found that it brought a depth of flavor that was quite impressive, more like the gaminess of duck really.  The texture is far from the boneless, skinless chicken breasts most encounter in the grocery store, but isn’t unpleasent – just different.