Fall traditions - father/daughter slaughterhouse day

It's that time of year. 

The time of year where I send a note into the school that gets added to the Grady children's "special file". 

'Dear teacher. It's the annual father/daughter slaughterhouse day.

This makes perfect sense in our world.

No intervention needed here. Move along." 

As I discovered the first time we did this, there are very few places you can have your livestock processed in Massachusetts. In fact, there's only one in the eastern half of the state. The fifth generation Blood Farm: a small family business that is kept busy mostly by hunters and smallhold farmers and specialty butchers. It's a beautiful place in its way, situated on the outskirts of Groton, MA with a history and rhythm seeped into the chill of the cold rooms and laughter of the crew working at a steady pace on whatever carcass is in front of them. 

Along with the pigs and beef quarters, we saw plenty of deer hanging (it being November) - one of the butchers said that last week someone brought in an 800 pound moose, and another guy brought in a small-ish bear from someplace in Maine.  

Seeing the processed carcasses hanging, waiting on the butcher's knife made us all kinds of happy. The Critter was pointing out the livers and other bits, and the different animals by their shape. She's been paying attention. Here she is trying to spot our pigs from the various carcasses in the cooler.  

So what's the cost of taking a pig to slaughter these days? 

One of our pigs was 230 pounds. The other 250. This is about average for our previous years. Good, healthy, year-old pigs (more or less. probably a little bit less than a year, actually). 

The cost of slaughter was $30 for the smaller, $35 for the latter.  There are additional transportation costs, and the cost of the animals themselves, of course, but the slaughter process itself was dirt cheap. Figure that the slaughter involves management of the live pig to the killing floor. The quick kill itself. Then draining, shaving, evisceration and bisecting (the pigs are always cut in half).  Probably only about 15-20 minutes of actual effort in a highly efficient operation, and a couple/three hours of overall calendar time. There's the cost of overhead: disposal of the extra bits, the staff, refrigeration, inspection readiness (Departments of Health or Agriculture are frequent visitors).

Once you pay the staff, there's not a whole lot of profit going on here. It's a labor of love as much as convenience.  And when you add all the costs, including butchering together, I'm still coming out a dollar or a bit more per pound cheaper than the cost of meat at the grocery store, all in. So I'm definitely ok with driving out there every year, to make sure they're still there the next year when I need them. 

(if you're a little bit squeamish, feel free to skip the next picture). 

Our favorite butcher, Mike Dulock, has moved a bit further away this past year. It's a about a 45 minute drive down various highways with two pink fleshy carcasses, wrapped in plastic in the bed of my truck. (I was tempted to let a trotter stick out over the edge, just to see if I'd get a wave from folks driving by, but I contained myself.)

Mike's new shop (follow him on Twitter - @craftbutcher) is fantastic. I like it better than his old place, despite the distance. It's in the city, so it doesn't have the luxury of space that his old suburban location had, but it's set up much more intimately, with the processing area viewable to the customer and passersby. It's much more European-Olde-Worlde, much less American-sterile. And the curiosity of seeing a whole animal expertly rendered into familar parts has always drawn me in - It's why I'm so non-plussed by the grocery store butcher.  And he's set it up to take best advantage of that, and really engage the customer with what they're eating, right from the time they buy it. 

This is what 'farm-to-table' is all about.

Mike's costs are a straight by-the-pound processing, and he and I spend a few minutes talking about what I want to do with the pigs. This year, that involves 3 prosciuttos (so three of the hams are allocated). All the belly will be desitined for pancetta (so no skin left on the belly), and I want plenty of back bacon of the English, non-streaky sort (which creeps down into the belly, making it a bit less wide). 

We're more a fan of roasts than chops, and always need plenty of trimming for sausage. This year's "special" new goal will be to make guanciale - I've got last year's cheeks set aside as well in the freezer, which should be fine. Otherwise, I told Mike and his lovely assistant Maureene to just 'cut it however the pig speaks to you'. By now, he's got enough experience with how we like our animals that I have complete faith in the end result. 

At the end of the day, the Critter and I headed home and fried up some onions and fresh sausage that Mike had on hand (different pigs). They were an English breakfast sausage style recipe, and I was thinking about having him make up a few pounds for me from our animals, to save me the trouble of casing them. (of all the parts I enjoy, that is not one of them). 

We ate our sausage with toast and a little spicy mustard, and sat in companionable silence at the counter, happy with our days effort. 

She left me a good morning message in the frost on my truck this morning. 

I think she still enjoys our outings. 

Halloween scare: guest teach 85 fifth graders for a day

A few weeks ago, my Bride was looking over the Critter's homework as she worked at the kitchen counter. It was science. She was intrigued. The class had done an experiment comparing different types of rock - shaking them in sealed containers, seeing which broke down into smaller bits more quickly, which stayed whole, etc.

My Bride is a scientist by training (cellular biologist) who spent many years in research and development and helped set up scale-up manufacturing facilties for new drug manufacture. She comes by her list-making tendencies and detailed attention pretty honestly. She was intrigued by the classroom experiement. 

"How did you document the procedure?"

"Did the same person shake each rock?"

"How do you know you used the same amount of force?"

"What was your control?"

"Did you repeat the protocol & use the average of the results to ensure you didn't have anomaly?"

"Did you measure the precipitate as gross output? Or as a percentage of the original?"

"Here. Let me show you how we did it in the virology lab..."

At which point she dove into a neatly organized box I didn't realize we had in the basement, and pulled out one of her lab notebooks. ("Oh good... that's where we keep the virus research. Remind me never to go into the basement again.")

This led to some conversation with the Critter's teachers, and an ensuing invitation to come in and teach a science class. Which somehow involved me. And then my Bride realized she'd only be available for half the day anyway, so maybe I should be the interface with the teachers? Are you ok with that? Ok, that's settled then. 

Yes. Er. Wait. What was that? 

4 classes of 5th graders. What the heck do you teach them? Well, it's around Halloween, so how about spooky stuff? What stuff do I have that's spooky, visual, and science-related. I know.. Dry ice!

I explained to the kids that I like science because it involves props. And if you don't see a hammer on the table, the scientist is probably some kind of fraud. 

Hey, you ask me to volunteer, I get to fill the kids heads with whatever stories I choose. It's a fair trade. 

Since I live with a 5th grader, I know they can be a fairly intimidating bunch when they're in packs. So I came up with a layout of a lesson plan that hit a little on "what scientists do" and covered some of the basics of states of matter, and how we make practical use of that knowledge.  For those who might be considering a guest spot in a nearby 5th grade class, I offer it up below. 

• 5 minutes or so on who the heck we are: My Bride & I both explained what science we do & work with on a daily basis
• 5-10 minutes or so on Ice, Dry Ice - freezing points & melting points of things we know.  (I used Water, Chocolate & Steel as examples)  "Why do you think they call this 'dry'  ice?"  -   "dry ice" vs. "wet ice"  - including show & tell with  some of each.  It's totally safe for the kids to touch the smoke/fog  from dry ice - and between the grown ups in the room, we were able to let each "group" touch and feel up close - including some demos of pouring the fog over a kids head, and watching him/her get all "spookified."
• What's the white stuff? If this is carbon dioxide (which we breathe out), why can't we see our breaths? When can we see our breaths? Is this the same thing? 
•  A few minutes on sublimation vs. melting.  And some time to create a  hypothesis about which will happen faster - will dry ice disappear  before a piece of wet ice?   We set up the experiment, and determined the initial mass of each piece, and then monitored it at various times throughout the class.  We recorded up front how many votes were for "regular" ice melting faster, and how many for the dry ice melting faster. 
• Another experiment - dry ice soap bubbles (like this one) - a fun and visual way  to see the expansion of the CO2 as it sublimated into gas - probably about 10 minutes. This included some volunteers from the class to give it a try as well, and get a little hands on.
• Check in our our dry ice vs. wet ice melting - which is proceeding faster? Record our results
• Super cooling - using dry ice and alcohol to freeze tomatoes, lettuce, flowers - and give it a smash! See how you can shatter a tomato? (this is when the hammer comes in.)   I told all the kids to go home and ask their parents about a comedian named Gallagher. Then we put a rubber ball into the super-cool bath to see what would happen - it's not cold enough to make the rubber brittle (we'd need something like liquid nitrogen for that), but it does suck most of the 'bounce' out of the ball. 
• Check in on our dry ice vs. wet ice melting again. Record results. See who wanted to change their votes Almost all the kids voted for "regular" ice melting faster in the beginning. This part was good reinforcement of how our theories and hypothesis are tested by our observations. 
• A few more minutes on when we use these principles of "cold, really cold, and super cold" beyond special effects - making ice cream, in medical treatment, long term storage, testing materials for space, etc.  Usually by now, my voice was going, and I'd pop a bit of dry ice in a plastic container with some water, and casually drink it. This woke the kids up in the back.
• A final check on our experiment, and a wrap up on whose hypothesis was right. 

We had another experiment in mind - making 'hot ice' from sodium acetate, but couldn't quite get it to work in the practice runs (easiest way to melt the stuff is in a microwave, which we don't have at home).  My Bride saved the day with the super-cooling idea above. As it gave us more opportunity to use the hammer (I also had it along to break up the big blocks of dry ice), it was in.

The kids all seemed to be pretty engaged. Dry ice is visual enough and uncommon enough to be cool, especially to this age. The volunteer segments all went well - one girl who was brought up to shatter a tomato gave it a whack hard enough to shatter the corian cutting board we had brought along for the demo as well. That sent me into a fit of laughter so hard I had difficulty getting back on track. I think she was famous for the rest of the day; kids coming in for classes after lunch were asking me about it. 

When things didn't go right (which happens a lot in science), I would shout something about what shocking things the classroom blanding turtles were doing to get the kids to look away for a minute, and help the volunteer get the experiment back on track.  The kids were hilarious, and asked great, clever questions, and we had a blast spending time with them. 

We did all of our experiments up at the front table.  As you can see, I was wearing gloves and had a pair of tongs for handling the dry ice. It's cold enough to burn skin if not treated with a little care, and I didn't want to get banned from the school and have to fill out what I assumed to be all kinds of paperwork.

Chemistry was never my favorite topic - I only made it through the coursework in college because I had a lab partner willing to do all the fiddly stuff, and a really cute TA that I'd spend the rest of the time talking to.

I'm looking forward to volunteering again in the spring segment on Engineering, when we really hit my wheelhouse. I've already suggested a day on the soccer field with a few home made physics engines. 

Here kids.. let me introduce you to my friend: le trebuchet.

Hunkered, and grateful

Hurricane Sandy passed us by, and we suffered very little for it. My Bride and I are in different places of the 'preparation' scale. She is ready to get us through a zombie-virus outbreak and the collapse of civilization. I assume that FEMA will of course make getting a ration-pack of Diet Coke to my door a priority if it becomes a smidge too gusty for me to venture out of doors. 

At one point in the day before Sandy struck, my Bride came into my office. I was busy contorting my giant meat-fingers into twisted ukelele friendly chord shapes. She rummaged through my desk and found our passports, adding them to a plastic, sealable box with a pile of other things. 

"What's that for?"

"These are our documents."

"I see that. But why are they in that tub?"

"In case we need to leave in a hurry because of the storm."

"So we need our passports? In case the hurricane makes us flee the country?"

I should really know not to ask such questions by now. She gave my tiny instrument and me a scathing look and told me to get off my ass and go batten down the chicken coop and haul in another quarter-cord of wood before the storm got here. She went and filled up every container 

The truth is, we were fortunate. We all stayed home the day the hurricane arrived, and puttered through the house together, keeping busy with various quiet activities. We lost power for a few hours at the tail end of the storm, and only then so the power crews could safely work on restoring power to other parts of the town. Knowing we're all safe, and with little damage to speak of, I can admit that I kind of enjoy the enforced calm and togetherness of the family huddle during the dark. We sit around the fire and read our books. We draw with the kids and laugh off the occasional burn or stumble as we attempt to cook a meal in the flickering light of a lantern. We're grateful for the fireplace to cozy up to and the gas stove that always runs, with or without electricity. I sat in the firelight and worked on the kids' Halloween costumes. We make a new memory, and remind ourselves that as connected as we've become to the great big world around us, the really important things? They're right there within reach. 

My sympathies and thoughts are out there with those still waiting for power, or hurt from the storm.