Chicken Pickin’

white-leghorn-group

My father raised a hundred leghorn chickens every year. I remember feeding and caring for them when they arrived as chicks and then gathering eggs and feeding them each day. When they quit laying eggs my father would choose some of them to be killed and cleaned for eating. We sold eggs and dressed chickens to customers in town. The process of picking (plucking) chickens as we called it was a regular routine at our house. It was an accepted and understood part of life.

Chicken Pickin’    {Childhood Details Collection)

One vivid memory that comes to mind

Is picking chickens in our back yard

Old hens were culled and sent to the block

One chop of the hatchet and they would flop

Then into the bucket of scalding hot water

To loosen the feathers as the skin grew hotter

Wet soggy feathers pulled out all around

Till the bird was naked and feathers on the ground

Then into the kitchen and singed on the burner

Our old gas stove cleaned the hair off smoother

A very foul smell no pun intended

When tiny hairs burned smells really offended

Into the kitchen sink,,, cut, cleaned, and prepared

Washed and wrapped up for customers to share

Saving the giblets to be fried in a pan

Heart, Kidneys, and Gizzards for a snack was the plan

Most people in our generation don’t have a clue

What it takes to bring chicken to me and you

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Web photo: chickenforum.com

 

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4 thoughts on “Chicken Pickin’

  1. this brings back many memories of plucking chooks but ours never dropped instantly dead .. most ran around without their head, a nervous reaction to the trauma? Guess they were part of my conversion to be a veggo 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

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