Makin' bacon
We've been pretty busy this week. Last week a snowstorm dumped a couple of feet of white stuff on top of us. We were snowed in for a few days as three separate plow guys failed to show up. Ultimately I shoveled out enough of the driveway to get my truck out, went to Home Depot and came home with a 9hp snowblower.
Over the course of the weekend, we had a pig mishap. Two of them who were on the runty side and on the lower end of the pecking order managed to get a little squished one night as they wiggled their way to the bottom of the pig pile. They survived, but had prolapsed rectums.
A prolapse can be pushed back in and hopefully would heal, but nothing is ever that simple with pigs. Their penmates, who never miss a chance to eat anything that move slow enough to get eaten, apparently did some nibbling on the exposed organs and the way I discovered the problem was by noticing one morning that everyone was sorta blood-streaked.
At first I considered killing them myself, but as I thought it through I realized that after killing them in the pen I wouldn't be able to lift them over the fence by myself to get them to where they would be butchered. It had to wait a couple of days until the Millers came home from Maine.
First, Jeff rigged up a pole that is attached to the 2nd floor of my shed. It is lagged to the pole frame and can hold a considerable weight. From the end of the pole, we rigged up a small block and tackle and a gambrel hook. Under it is a pair of pallets to stand on. Pretty good set-up!
The next day, Wednesday, we put all other tasks aside and set about butchering. We went into the pen and separated the first injured pig from the herd. Jeff tried to keep the others grouped together in the corner while I herded the victim over towards the pig shed so I could get a clear shot with nothing living behind it. A shot from my Walther PP roughly between the eyes, sort of in the middle of an imaginary X drawn between the eyes and ears dropped it, it's brains scrambled.
The critter flopped onto it's back, body convulsing. I switched the safety on, stuck the gun in my pocket, and dove forward to grab the pig by it's front legs and steady it on it's back. Jeff jumped in with a razor-sharp skinning knife and stuck it just above the breastbone, angling the knife down under it, then pulling it forward, using the sternum as a fulcrum to slash all of the arteries to the heart in one pass. Blood poured out. Even though the brain ceased to function as the shot was fired, the body keeps on running on it's own briefly. Cutting the arteries allows the blood to get pumped out by the heart that is still beating, all by itself.
We jumped back to keep from getting any blood on our clothes and the rest of the pigs surged forward to gobble up the blood that was pouring out. Pigs have no respect for each other when alive and even less when dead. Without digressing, I have seen many instances that prove that humans aren't a whole lot better.
While the herd was thus engaged, we cut the other injured one out from the herd and repeated the process.
Then we lifted them by the feet, one at a time, and tossed them over the fence. After dragging them over to the hangin' pole, cuts were made in the hind legs for the gambrel hook, the critter was hauled up to a comfortable working height, and we got to work skinning. With two people working with sharp knives, it went quick. There was a bucket full of skin, followed by a bucket of guts. The head was skinned out and cut off, put aside for later cooking down to make head cheese. We cut the carcass in half down the middle of the spine with a sawzall, then carried each half to a folding table set up right there. The feet are cut off (these are for Buster the Dog), then the bacon cut away, the ham and shoulder cut off, Boston butt cut away, ribs cut off with the sawzall, then the chops sliced to the spine before being separated with the sawzall.
With Jeff and I working and Louise helping out, we had both pigs killed, skinned, cut up and packed in bags by early afternoon. (then a truckload of guns showed up and the REAL work began)
We split up the meat. The Millers will make hams, shoulders and a bunch of sausage. I'll do hams, shoulders, ribs and chops. The meat sat out in the shed, which is colder than the fridge, for a few days until I had a chance to "put down" the meat that would be cured. Meat that will be smoked first sits in a box covered in salt and molasses (following directions found in The Foxfire Book). The curing phase takes 12-14 days, then it is smoked.
Tonight I trimmed away any dirty parts of the fat that covers the meat, washed it down, and packed it in a mortar mixing pan (clean, brand new and sterilized with bleach). In doing so, I retrieved one of the slugs from the Walther, a bit flattened by it's being slammed through a thick pig skull. Now, except for the smoking process, the meat is all cut up, bagged and frozen and the meat to be cured is all nestled down in it's box of salt and molasses.
All that is left to do is cook the foreshanks that I cut off of the shoulders before putting them down in the salt. It is quarter of midnight, I figure that they'll be ready to eat by one. This will be the first of my pigs that I get to taste!
Over the course of the weekend, we had a pig mishap. Two of them who were on the runty side and on the lower end of the pecking order managed to get a little squished one night as they wiggled their way to the bottom of the pig pile. They survived, but had prolapsed rectums.
A prolapse can be pushed back in and hopefully would heal, but nothing is ever that simple with pigs. Their penmates, who never miss a chance to eat anything that move slow enough to get eaten, apparently did some nibbling on the exposed organs and the way I discovered the problem was by noticing one morning that everyone was sorta blood-streaked.
At first I considered killing them myself, but as I thought it through I realized that after killing them in the pen I wouldn't be able to lift them over the fence by myself to get them to where they would be butchered. It had to wait a couple of days until the Millers came home from Maine.
First, Jeff rigged up a pole that is attached to the 2nd floor of my shed. It is lagged to the pole frame and can hold a considerable weight. From the end of the pole, we rigged up a small block and tackle and a gambrel hook. Under it is a pair of pallets to stand on. Pretty good set-up!
The next day, Wednesday, we put all other tasks aside and set about butchering. We went into the pen and separated the first injured pig from the herd. Jeff tried to keep the others grouped together in the corner while I herded the victim over towards the pig shed so I could get a clear shot with nothing living behind it. A shot from my Walther PP roughly between the eyes, sort of in the middle of an imaginary X drawn between the eyes and ears dropped it, it's brains scrambled.
The critter flopped onto it's back, body convulsing. I switched the safety on, stuck the gun in my pocket, and dove forward to grab the pig by it's front legs and steady it on it's back. Jeff jumped in with a razor-sharp skinning knife and stuck it just above the breastbone, angling the knife down under it, then pulling it forward, using the sternum as a fulcrum to slash all of the arteries to the heart in one pass. Blood poured out. Even though the brain ceased to function as the shot was fired, the body keeps on running on it's own briefly. Cutting the arteries allows the blood to get pumped out by the heart that is still beating, all by itself.
We jumped back to keep from getting any blood on our clothes and the rest of the pigs surged forward to gobble up the blood that was pouring out. Pigs have no respect for each other when alive and even less when dead. Without digressing, I have seen many instances that prove that humans aren't a whole lot better.
While the herd was thus engaged, we cut the other injured one out from the herd and repeated the process.
Then we lifted them by the feet, one at a time, and tossed them over the fence. After dragging them over to the hangin' pole, cuts were made in the hind legs for the gambrel hook, the critter was hauled up to a comfortable working height, and we got to work skinning. With two people working with sharp knives, it went quick. There was a bucket full of skin, followed by a bucket of guts. The head was skinned out and cut off, put aside for later cooking down to make head cheese. We cut the carcass in half down the middle of the spine with a sawzall, then carried each half to a folding table set up right there. The feet are cut off (these are for Buster the Dog), then the bacon cut away, the ham and shoulder cut off, Boston butt cut away, ribs cut off with the sawzall, then the chops sliced to the spine before being separated with the sawzall.
With Jeff and I working and Louise helping out, we had both pigs killed, skinned, cut up and packed in bags by early afternoon. (then a truckload of guns showed up and the REAL work began)
We split up the meat. The Millers will make hams, shoulders and a bunch of sausage. I'll do hams, shoulders, ribs and chops. The meat sat out in the shed, which is colder than the fridge, for a few days until I had a chance to "put down" the meat that would be cured. Meat that will be smoked first sits in a box covered in salt and molasses (following directions found in The Foxfire Book). The curing phase takes 12-14 days, then it is smoked.
Tonight I trimmed away any dirty parts of the fat that covers the meat, washed it down, and packed it in a mortar mixing pan (clean, brand new and sterilized with bleach). In doing so, I retrieved one of the slugs from the Walther, a bit flattened by it's being slammed through a thick pig skull. Now, except for the smoking process, the meat is all cut up, bagged and frozen and the meat to be cured is all nestled down in it's box of salt and molasses.
All that is left to do is cook the foreshanks that I cut off of the shoulders before putting them down in the salt. It is quarter of midnight, I figure that they'll be ready to eat by one. This will be the first of my pigs that I get to taste!
posted by MVTCoPete | 11:06 PM
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