8.14.09 (day three) - the chickens

Day three started with a beautiful morning and a drive down to Salt Water Farm. Breakfast was a combo smoked and poached haddock with accompanying purple and golden potatoes, with pickled eggs......

Right after the meal, at about 10:45am or so, the air was getting a bit tense. Today was "chicken killing" day. Before I came to The Maine Event, I wasn't sure how I'd feel about this event. I knew I would participate. I knew I couldn't miss it. But I wasn't looking forward to it either. Charlotte's Web put me to tears when the spider died. If that could get me balling, how would I handle my first exposure to an actual killing of an animal?

What I didn't expect, and actually made me feel more at ease, was that the chefs themselves were uncomfortable about it. There was such a feeling of respect for the chicken (I know that sounds ridiciulous, but...), and respect for the task to be done, that it's something that has to be done, b/c that's how we live. I had said coming up to the trip that I would love to be the kind of guy that could just "do it without thinking twice." Having gone through it, I don't want to be that guy, but rather one that simply understands and appreciates what I'm doing. Ok, no more diary entry.

Anyway, like I was saying, around 10:45 am, Dennis, head chef from Roebling Tea Room helped us get through our early morning jitters with some shots of smooth potato vodka chased by some pickle and beet juice (BIG fan of the pickle juice chaser!). Can you ask for that at a bar?

Anyway, we all toasted to the lives of the chickens. I thought it was a nice moment.

I'm gonna kind of skip over the next part. The killing of the chickens is just not really something I want to write about. I will say that I was slightly more uncomfortable than I thought I would be at first, but ended up more comfortable than I thought I would be at the end......

I got to the point where I plucked the feathers and eviscerated a chicken myself.

For some of the chefs, it was their first times killing. For Brent and Caroline, I thought they handled it so professionally. Completely unpretentious, Brent looked at me like I was crazy when I asked him if he was nervous, and he responded with a, "Hell yeah."

I have to say that the whole scene was a bonding atmosphere.... From the passing of the vodka

to take swigs, to the group volunteering for preparation of the food we will eat tomorrow, it was a lot of rookies being put in a position they don't often play. So, I've actually censored many of the photos I've taken for the ones I feel are most appropriate......

Caroline, of Salty, carries her bird to the gallows.....

Some of us defeathered the chickens. The feathers pull off with ease. Keeping in line with "White Trash Friday," a Busch beer makes the foreground.

Rikka gets into the action.

Done.....

The chefs exhale and relax.

Switching gears, we left Salt Water Farm to head out about a half hour to go blueberry picking. Liv, who has been joining us on some events, opened up her home and her blueberry field to us...

Her home was pretty amazing. The view was out of a better homes & gardens magazine....

Blueberry picking:

Kicking back and relaxing in the shade.

Liv's husband Ken shows me how the blueberries get sorted....They use an antique belt operated machine....

After taking a brief swim in their pond on their property, we head out back to the farm to get some lunch....Plated is butter, anchovy, and radish sandwiches / chicken liver pate (from the chickens we killed in the morning) on toast / pork rillons on bread / and actually my FAVORITE part of the whole lunch is the sandwich to the top left, and I cannot remember what it was.....It was a pork pate or something close to that, but I can't recall how it was made. I'll have to find out. The chicken liver was my 2nd favorite on the plate. I was appreciating every bite....

Our new friends, Dave and Tasha at lunch...

After lunch, we have a pie making class. I have to admit, this interested me the least. I'm not a big pie fan, I mean yeah, pumpkin's great, but I'll take the stuff right out of the can. Fine with me......But we learned how to make crust although I was not 100% paying attention...

After pie making, we moved on to pickling. My roommate Julie and I, CONSTANTLY have vegetables at home we don't eat, so I was seriously intersted in pickling as a means to put to use these pounds of veggies we throw away weekly. Learned some good tips, and even pickled some cucumbers and beats myself (they're sitting in my fridge in my cabin now).

Exhausted from our chicken killing, blueberry picking, swimming, lunch, pie class, and pickling, we head back to our cabins for a nap before dinner.

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Dinner is slated as a pork bluegrass dinner and it does not disappoint. Erica and I show up and the folky bluegrass guy is already strumming his guitar and mandolin, Tom Mylan is in full distilling form for his "moonshine," and the pork is all but plated for us to dive into.....

Listening to the fokly sing his low country version of gin and juice, I realized there's just something special about a mandolin accompanying these lyrics:

Later on that day

My homey dr. dre came through with a gang of tanqueray
And a fat ass j, of some bubonic chronic that made me choke
Shit, this aint no joke

The pork sandwiches and pork casoulet is a pretty heavy pork dinner, but it's delicious. I eat all of mine, and nab the remnants of what's left on Erica's plate....Dessert is a blueberry pie, from, yes, you're catching on, the blueberries we picked......

After a few beers and some moonshine, and the folky rendition of gin and juice, we head back to our cabins. I dialed up the last inning and a half of the Yankees game which was on late b/c they're playing out in Seattle. I start watching in the bottom of the 8th. Teixera smacks a go ahead homer in top of the 9th. 15 minutes in, the game's over. Yankees win.....thuhhhhhh, yankees win. So basically, a great night. And now's bedtime.