Gobble, Gobble, Croak

Disclaimer: Do NOT read this post if you are squeamish or if you love animals.

I am not a vegetarian. I love me some beef. I also try to live life to the fullest and try everything once. So when J told me our friend Bean was raising turkeys and invited us to the “kill party,” I thought, hey, why not? When else am I am going to learn to do this? And who knows? Maybe I’ll end up one day on Survivor or in a situation where we live off the land and have to do this. Experience is everything!

Bean raised these turkeys staring in August. He fed them beer and grew them to 20+ pounds. A famous restaurant in Boston was set to buy the 75 he raised.
It was quite a fascinating process once you got past the fact that you are slaughtering turkeys. First the turkeys quiver in the corner because they know what’s happening (that’s sad). Then they go into this device that keeps them still so you can cut off their heads (yes, I tried that once). Then they get defeathered. Then you take out all the gizzards and such (which get rebagged). That was pretty cool because I felt like I was doing surgery. Cut the neck, take out the intestines, find the heart, liver, kidneys and lungs. The smell was the only bothersome thing. Oh, and my turkey’s intestinal system was still working, so he kept pooping on me!J sat out on this one. He said the live turkeys were giving him a look of mercy. He also said he doesn’t think he can eat turkey for Thanksgiving this year.

Stay tuned for Part II (there are three parts to this weekend) when we head to the islands!