“Kill. Kill. Kill. Worry about evisceration later.” Jennifer Hashely

During the summer of 2006 I received a certificate in nutrition counseling through the Institute of Integrative Nutrition and Teachers College. Shortly thereafter I decided to challenge as many beliefs and push as many of my boundaries as possible. I was dumpster diving and building bikes with the Freegans in New York City. I was staying up late and going into work in-time. I was trying as many new things as possible. This included pushing my consciousness as well as changing the way I ate and consumed.

One Saturday as I made my way to the Freegan Bike Workshop in Bushwick I passed by a slaughter house and thought, “I’d like to buy something from there.” The following week I selected 2 guinea hens then Katie Gilligan cooked them to perfection and Lukas Volger, Peter Joseph, Katie, and I ate them for dinner. And I can tell you those birds did not come cheap. They were $3.50 per pound.

I’d hoped to cut down on the food-miles traveled in an effort to reduce my carbon footprint. At the time of the guinea hen meal, I closed the food gap in terms of fewest miles traveled and fewest number of people who intervened in the production of the food. At that time that was the best I could do.

Then yesterday I set a new personal best: I killed my first chicken, one that had been pasture-raised less than 20 miles from the slaughter site.

For years I have been unable to find the appropriate word to describe myself as a food consumer. I might possess a slightly higher level of awareness than most eaters but no matter what I always feel like vegans kick my ass when it comes to food dogma and I always feel a little bit wimpy in comparison. But I’m not making any apologies here. I have yet to figure out how to live in the absence of a couple of servings of chicken per week. When it comes to chicken I’ve thought of myself as something of a hypocrite. I can waltz into any old super market or butcher shop and say, “Give me a bird. And make it snappy.” And then I fork over however many dollars per pound, head home, cook it, eat it and life, for the most part, goes on. The question (ok, the one of many questions) that has loomed large on my inner horizon: Can I kill a chicken?

Ever since I made the decision to own/operate a farm I wanted meat birds and laying hens to fill out the portrait of my farm. For the growing season of 2009 I thought the wisest course of action was to focus on growing vegetables (the best damn vegetables!) and then perhaps in 2010 add birds and change up the veggie segment of the business.

“What sort of lives will my meat birds live?” They’ll be pasture raised. They’ll walk around clucking and nibbling on insects and grass, have access to clean water and perhaps some feed (preferably organic). I’m thinking broilers: they’re ready to make the journey from the pasture to your dinner plate (ok, MY dinner plate) in 8 weeks.

When I looked into the broiler venture in earnest last November I came upon a giant stumbling block -- there was no legal slaughter facility for chickens in the state of Massachusetts. Hmmm. Sounds pretty freaking stupid to me. “You mean that the Commonwealth of Massacusetts wants grower/processors to raise their birds, truck them out of state (Um. Can we say loss of revenue?) and then they have to drive the birds back to Massachusetts and take them to market?” This made no sense to me. On my list of things to do, somewhere in the middle of the list, after I was situated as a vegetable grower was to complain (or appeal) to the DOH. What I had in mind was a face-to-face meeting with someone in office who could perhaps explain to me if there was any sense in this.

Luckily. (Have I mentioned that I’m very lucky?) Luckily, there were plenty of other people, growers/processors and people in government approaching this problem. As the result of a rare instance of communication between state governmental agencies—DOH, DEP, EPA, USDA, DAR a pilot program was created and called the MPPU – Mobile Poultry Processing Unit. (Please note: currently there are other mobile poultry processing units in operation throughout the US.)

Judy Gillan of NESFI has been a major player in this endeavor. She’s partnered with (among others) meat bird grower/processors Jennifer Hashley, Pete Lowy, Mark Cesario and on the state and local level with Rick Chandler, Kim Foley, and Catherine Skiba, and received grants from Northeast SARE.

I have to make a small food digression here: one of the things I adore about going to these types of events is that I get to eat junk food. I’m living on a pretty tight budget and beyond that I can’t feature spending 95 cents on one Dunkin donut. Paying that much money for all those empty calories doesn’t sit well with my stomach or my wallet. But when I head to one of these outings -- I ALWAYS bring an empty stomach. “What was there to eat?” you ask. For starters, biscotti, donuts, and munchkins. I don’t care for biscotti but I broke into those donuts and munchkins. There was fruit (snore – although I did eat a golden delicious apple in the afternoon, hoping to offset some of the effects of all the donuts in the morning. I’m not convinced this sort of food math works but I like to tell myself otherwise.) There was apple cider and lemonade and bottled water. (Bottled water is such a no-no. Ugh.) We were given menus from which to choose a sandwich for lunch that was prepared at The Black Sheep in Belchertown. As I was heading into my first chicken kill, something new for me I thought I should try something new for lunch. I ordered Southern Comfort. Buffalo Chicken, Bacon, Pepper Jack Cheese, spicy mayo, lettuce, tomato, and red onion on a baguette. The sandwich was ok, I’m not one for spicy foods and the bacon was rather weak although the baguette was very fresh. In the end I’d grade this sandwich: B. For dessert there were cookies. (Hot damn!) My favorite: chocolate with macadamia nuts. I find that dessert can either uplift a lame meal or condemn one to total and complete misery. (I will save regaling you with tales of dessert disappointment for another time or perhaps another blog altogether.) The cookie carried out its dessert duty wonderfully. It was a tiny bit stale (which I prefer) and the flavors were well-balanced. The cookie receives a grade of: A-.

…The training in the morning covered a wide range of topics: Federal, State, and local poultry processing regulations; Sanitation and food-safety regulations; solid and waste water regulations; and the MPPU license application process.

After lunch we were trained as to how to use the actual MPPU and then it was time: time to kill some chickens.

I’d been waiting a long time for this moment and as I stood in line I started to go through my process.

The first question I asked: How do I feel?
The answer: A bit queasy.

Then I segued into my usual “You’re a hypocrite” dialog. Then I watched a couple of people kill a few chickens and I created a new association in my head. I started to think about fishing and killing fish. Then I thought about pigs and cows and I was more or less where I always am: I eat very little pork or beef (because they’re warm blooded mammals).

I want you to understand that I was not looking to justify my actions, I was looking to see where my head and heart were at.

As I prepared myself to kill a chicken, I said my meat mantra: Thank you for giving your life and I’m sorry for any suffering that has been caused.
Then I stepped onto the platform, pulled a chicken out of the crate, held it upside down, pulled the head through the cone, applied the stun knife to the throat, counted “one two” and then made a small slit in the chickens throat. She bled out.

When it came time to eviscerate the chicken I found that I was quite good at it. My bird looked as good as anything you’d find in the store. (Actually I think my bird looked better than what I usually find in the store.)

I walked away with 2 birds, individually bagged. Yes I was altered but only in so far as I was going to eat the bird I killed. There was no huge awakening and rightfully so, I’ve been eating chickens for years. I guess if anything, once again I’ve been struck by the simplicity of it all. I don’t understand the food crisis. Now that I’m a food producer it comes down to this: Just do it. And do it right.

Stop thinking that food should come cheap.

Seriously. The dollar menu at McDonald’s is nowhere. Not even once a month. Not even once per year. Stop eating garbage. (I hope I didn’t just commit food disparagement…)

What it boils down to is this: Buy local. Buy what's in season. Eat intelligently.