[Caution: Viewer Advisory -- Discretion Suggested]
We spent most of today with this fellow, Arnold's Valley Pig, who enjoyed his life just down the road. I'm pretty sure my decision to post this picture was more difficult than choices made by war photographers. Unfortunately, we're used to them, but not this, although 10 billion -- that's right, 10 billion -- animals are killed to adorn our tables each year in the U.S.
Some people, including Tommy and Sophie, claimed his brains will be tasty with scrambled eggs. While I'm not up for that, I'm glad very little of what's left of this former life is going to waste. I didn't know jowls offered bacon, but they do.
Frankly, until this morning I didn't know where most pork cuts come from, and I pictured butchering as a very bloody process (even though I've helped process turkeys and chickens). I learned it is not. My first job was to butterfly-cut a rack of pork chops.
My biggest job for the day was separating the skin and bones from this leg and another one, while Rob, at the next table, did the same thing. The rest of our crew cubed what we cut off and tossed them into baskets lined with black plastic. All of this became sausage.
No, our boss makes it into thin, flat sheets and freezes them, one-by-one, in plastic Glad bags. Before that happens, the sausage needs to sit overnight and absorb the flavors of sage and other seasonings. Karen will return tomorrow to help wrap it up.
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