This is Old Red.
He was a 4 year old Rhode Island Red that ran the animal world of the first poultry/livestock purchases we’ve made. Soon after he was instated as commander in chief, we brought up a new generation of reds and Barred Rocks. When the old and new were amalgamated, Old Red got territorial. He would stand guard as his hen harem broke fast, not allowing the young ones to feed. Plus he was a jerk. We had been planning for a time to actually consume one of our animals, and took his disposition as a go-ahead for dinner. Here is how it went down:
It was a family affair.
He was stripped.
The legs and wings were very similar to rubber, but the breasts were moist, and they just made it under the “chewable” line. The special ingredient was the value of the experience of really owning what we ate (but, honestly, the chicken meat was disappointing. We’ll take a younger bird next time). Our pre-meal prayer voiced an extra dose of thanks to the Giver of all good things, cocky cocks included.
—Stay tuned for a follow-up post – a little “philosophy-of-homegrown.”