Thinking of Eating: Roger Grows Up

I got a call from Clare the other day saying that Don and Roger were growing much faster than she expected and would reach their ideal slaughter weight a couple of weeks before she'd anticipated.

You might remember the last time I went out, the pigs weighed in the neighborhood of 200 pounds. Don has always been the larger of the two, outweighing Roger by ten or so pounds, and he's definitely the more food-oriented. It was obvious when we went out to feed them table scraps and vegetable trimmings—Don went right for their food bowl, while Roger stood and leaned against me, insisting on getting scratches before he joined his brother.

After playing some piggy tag with them, Clare suggested feeding them some of the blackberries from the bushes just outside the pasture. Now, these are big animals, at least three times the size of the biggest dog I've played with. Even Walker has surprised well-meaning guests when they've proferred a treat and in his excitement he's taken their whole hand into his mouth.

But when I offered Roger a juicy blackberry, rather than chomping down, he gently took it from my fingers with his lips and swallowed, grunting appreciatively. After several more he ran off to play with Don, who'd decided that he was through with this dainty exercise and had gone to the grain bucket for some real chow.

While Don was munching away, we gauged his weight by measuring him with string. Yes, you heard me right. You take a five foot or so length of string, put one end between your pig's ears and run it down his back to the base of his tail (illustration, right), then mark it with tape or a knot. Then you measure his girth by putting the string around him just behind his front legs. Measure the marks on the string with a tape measure, use the following formula and you'll get a weight that Clare has found accurate (on pigs…not so much on people or dogs) to within five pounds:

Weight (lbs) = (Length x Girth x Girth) ÷ 400 (inches)

Which put Don at about 285, making Roger's weight around 270, confirming her suspicion that they were going to be ready for slaughter any time in the next couple of weeks.

Not to get off track, but we had a delicious posole verde the other day, made with pork shoulder that had been simmered for several hours till it was fall-apart tender. Served with rice and a cabbage slaw it was fabulous. I no more thought about the pig that shoulder came from than I thought about the plant the tomatillos came from.

Which is where this whole thing gets complicated. I find myself thinking at odd moments about Roger, who's definitely a people-oriented guy, and I'm getting kind of attached to him for just that reason. It's hard thinking he's going to be killed in just a couple of weeks and I'm frankly not looking forward to being there.

Having been through this several times before, Clare says she find it helps to replace the sadness with feelings of gratitude, so I'll be working on that in the coming days. I'll keep you posted.

Read the other posts in this series: Roger and Me, Saying Goodbye, The Day Finally Comes, The Meat of the Matter and Pasture to Plate.

Thinking of Eating: Roger and Me

 

Can I eat an animal I've played tag with?

It's a question I've been struggling with since committing to buy half a pig from my friend Clare Carver at Big Table Farm. Twice a year for the last several years, Clare has bought two organically-certified weaner pigs from her friends Amy Benson and Chris Roehm at Square Peg Farm, and I'd promised myself that someday I'd get one.

Genuine pigtail.

This spring she got two Berkshire Cross pigs, a heritage breed known to thrive on pasture and whose meat is darker and far more flavorful than store-bought. Named Don and Roger after two of the main characters from the TV series Madmen, they're being raised inside an electrified tape corral on grass pasture. The corral is moved every few weeks in a process called rotational grazing, an especially good idea since young pigs like to root around, roll and generally tear up the ground. Their diet consists of grass, organic grain, occasional treats of the farm's organic eggs and scraps and vegetable trimmings from the kitchen.

Clare doesn't believe in moving her animals off the farm for slaughter because of the stress it puts on them and the effect that can have on the quality of the meat (see previous story here). So when Don and Roger reach 270 pounds or so they'll be killed in their pasture on the farm.

One happy guy.

Which is a problem when it comes to selling her pasture-raised, humanely treated pigs to people like me, who are looking for exactly that kind of meat for our tables. That's because the only meat that the USDA allows farmers to sell to the public must be killed in a USDA-approved facility, and there are no USDA-approved mobile slaughter units in Oregon for Clare to call on. But an exception to that rule allows her to offer her pigs to buyers while the animals are still alive in an arrangement where the buyer ostensibly pays the farmer to raise the pigs for them and pay separately for their slaughter and butchering.

Which is where I came in.

Playing in the sprinkler. Roger's on the left.

When she got her weaners, Clare sent out an e-mail to her list of interested pig-buyers offering half a pig to three buyers (she and Brian will keep one half for themselves). I responded quickly to the first-come-first-serve offer and will get half of Roger sometime in September. I plan to attend the killing and slaughter, then take my half to Portland's Culinary Workshop where co-owner Melinda Casady will guide Dave and I in butchering the meat.

So far I've made two trips to the farm to visit Roger. On the first visit he and Don weighed in at around 100 pounds, about the size of a big dog (top photo). I'm always startled at how much like dogs they are as they run around and play with each other, obviously enjoying rolling in the dirt or grunting with pleasure as they scratch themselves against their mobile pig house, dubbed the "Winnapigo."

If this is slop, give me some, too!

They'll even play a piggy version of tag, ears pricked up at attention as you run behind their house, running around to "tag" you when you peek out, then dashing away to start again. On my second trip three weeks later they weighed around 200 pounds (above left and right). Clare turned on the hose and they ran under its arcing spray like kids playing in a sprinkler on a hot summer day.

My next visit is in a little more than a week, with slaughter scheduled for mid-September. And while I have no illusions about developing a deep relationship with Roger, I'm wondering if spending some time with him is going to change the experience of consumption in unexpected ways. Regardless, I'll be sure to let you know what happens in future installments.

Read the other posts in this series: Roger Grows Up, Saying Goodbye, The Day Finally Comes, The Meat of the Matter and Pasture to Plate.