How to prepare a chicken dinner
11 05 2008
We’re unashamedly “lookist” here on the croft—animals that aren’t sufficiently good looking are eaten. One of our spare Scots Grey cockerels had the misfortune of having a misshapen neck so when the Wombats came to stay on Friday and Saturday, guess who became Saturday night’s dinner? This fellow with his kinked neck…
The cockerel was brought in to the byre the night before being dispatched and kept in a large cage with access to water but no food. This cleans out his system, making contamination of the meat with faeces much less likely. On Friday, I collected my tools, cleaned, sharpened and oiled them as needed, then laid them out for use. The chickens are killed using the dispatcher to the right, they’re bled and drawn using the knife, the pair of grips are for removing particularly stubborn feathers (mainly on the wings and parson’s nose) and the side axe is for removing the head and lower parts of the legs.
I took the cockerel out, held him head forward under one arm, and slipped a long length of bailing twine with a running noose on one end around his feet (the twine passes over a beam, while the bitter end is already tied off). Then, I gave him a few strokes, chatted to him and, holding the dispatcher wide open, put it in place around his neck. A few more strokes and crack, a firm squeeze of the hand closed the dispatcher and broke the cockerel’s neck. I then let him hang from the twine—the 30 seconds or so of nervous system flapping helps push the blood down into the head. Holding the head with one hand, I carefully stabbed up through the beak into the head, and then let the cockerel bleed out into a bucket.
Good light is a big help when plucking a chicken, so I prefer to sit in the byre in front of the doorway with the sun coming over my shoulder. Dunking a chicken in scalding water for 60 seconds makes it easier and faster to pluck, but I prefer to dry pluck. It means working quickly and efficiently while the chicken is still warm, but more care is needed not to tear the skin. I start with the wings, then do the breast, back and legs. (Some people do wings, legs, breast and back.)
The very fine feathers are left for the moment, and with all the wing and body feathers gone it’s now time to chop the head off with the axe. I have a wooden chopping block inside the steading and it’s just as good for this as for chopping wood. The cockerel was then taking inside for drawing (removing the guts), singeing off the final feathers with a candle, and a good rinse through with clean cold water. Then it was into the refrigerator for 24 hours before being turned into pot roast with pink fir apple potatoes, onions, celery, carrots, herbs, a glass of mangel ale, and the last of 2007’s frozen broad beans.
And once again thanks to the Wee ‘Un for helping with the photography.
I’ve been hunting for something like this for ages. Noone seems to want to put pictures with there descriptions these days which just helps me become more confused.
Won’t need to do it myself for a while as our spare cockerel, all be it a bantam, was swapped by my wife for two ex-battery hens so that we’re getting something from our chickens at least. Our current bunch are either way to young or are just getting to POL so no eggs yet
I was hoping to have time to do a “how to” draw a chicken (along the lines of my rabbit one), but it wasn’t to be. In fact, I only had just enough time to complete the drawing and cleaning before our visitors arrived—their car drew up as I popped the cockerel into the refrigerator.
When drawing, the most important thing is to start by cutting around the vent without piercing any of the internal organs or the vent. Tie the vent off with a piece of twine, open the abdominal cavity a little further to get your fingers in, and then use them to separate the organs from the carcass. Then pull everything out, retaining the heart, liver and kidneys for eating and discarding the rest.
Be aware that traditional breeds, particularly dual-purpose ones like the Scots Grey, will have the bulk of their meat on their thighs and not the breast as modern broilers do. Also, the meat can be much darker and stronger in flavour than commercial broilers. We like our chicken like this, but it can be a surprise for people who are only used to commercial chickens.
I have to admit, being vegetarian I wondered if i’d regret reading this post, but the care and respect you have for your animals shines through.
The How-to would have been fantastic if you’d managed to pull it off. I’ve had my friend thats a vet try and talk me round how it would be done but again without the pictures words and text mean very little to me.
I’ve actually tried to get the other half to add to our Scots Grey collection but she’s not for having it. It’s the dark meat I prefer anyway on a chicken so it hopefully won’t be to much of a leap. I’m more worried how our kids will react to the Silkies when their time comes. Dark meat and black skin may mean a delicacy in the far east but in Central Scotland I fear my kids will be insisting it isnt chicken as it looks nothing like the inside of a McNugget.
I managed to skin a McNugget once, but when it came to pulling out the insides I found my fingers were too big…
we did the same thing but with Mr Ainsty turkey, not as easy as doing the chooks though.
I’ve pluched duck and pheasant before, but never a chicken. They were both stone cold, after a day’s shoot, but I didn’t dunk them in boiling water to pluck them; the feathers came out okay. We did scald the duck skin before cooking, to make it retract from the breast fat & come up more crispy. So, are your chickens more ‘gamey’ tasting, is that what you mean by darker meat than the supermarket type?
The meat, especially on the thighs and legs, is very dark brown to grey in colour when cooked. The flavour is very concentrated with an earthiness to it. Having eaten pheasant and the like, I wouldn’t describe the taste as gamey. It’s more a super intense chicken flavour.
Stoney - I have just got around to fishing and eating the stuff I catch, people are saying that I should get my hunting licence for deer this autumn, I won’t for the very same reason I couldn’t kill a chicken - I am too soft.
I am one of those poor sods who still buys me chicken breast from the butcher.
Hmmm Lookist
mental note “Must wear best clothes around stoney if i ever meet him as he might eat me”
I thought you’re not supposed to wash chicken (or any poultry). I think the reason is because it can lead to spreading bacteria. Or something like that. There was a huge campaign a couple of Christmases ago about this - I sort of half pay attention to these things but then don’t find out more about them.
It’s another one of those nanny state directives (from the Food Standards Agency) that people apply far too broadly.
The FSA says:
However, they’re not talking about a chicken that you’ve just killed, plucked, gutted and singed yourself. They’re talking about chicken, whether whole or in pieces, that you’ve bought from the supermarket and is ready to go.
The cockerel I prepared had dirt and dust on his skin (remember, he’d been outside, plus plucking releases dust), he had bits of feather stuck here and there, there were bits of clotted blood inside the cavity, and so on. I rinse them off, give the chicken a wipe with a clean, dry cloth and bung it the refrigerator overnight to cool before either cooking or freezing it.
As far as spreading bacteria is concerned, of course splashes of water will spread bacteria. That’s why I work at a cleared sink, with no dishes out, and then thoroughly clean up afterwards. Instead of suggesting that people do this if they need to clean chicken, the FSA takes the “all people are stupid approach”, assumes they’ll make a mess and not clean it up thoroughly, and so tries to scare everyone into not washing chicken.
I’m going to continue cleaning the dust, dirt and gunk off my chickens (and pigeons and rabbits), and I’m going to continue to clean up thoroughly afterwards.