I’m getting a little worried about myself. All this bluster about fresh-killed meat, but this weekend I was dealing with a few chickens from the petting zoo and felt a small twinge of nausea. Granted, I was having to pull some of their feathers out (new workers at that place don’t seem so concerned with thorough plucking) and yank their hearts out and cut out their cloacae (same re: cleaning), which is all best done by hardened prairie wives with leathery skin–not by me who forgot to put an apron on.

What I think set the stage for queasiness was these ducks I’d gotten a couple of weeks ago. A couple had quite a few black feathers, and you could still see them under the skin–it looked like scary old man skin with wiry black hairs. I shudder just thinking about them. So it was kind of cumulative grossness by the time the chickens came around.

But they tasted great in the end, after I got a little distance from them. For Peter’s sake, I did a side-by-side-by-side comparison of salting techniques. I’d gotten three small chickens: one got pre-salted a  la Judy Rogers of Zuni Cafe (covered in salt 24 hours prior to baking); one got brined according to Cook’s Illustrated strictures (soaked in salt-and-sugar solution for a couple of hours); and one got nothin’.

The totally unbrined chicken (I don’t think I even put salt on the outside before I put it in the oven, which was just an oversight) was still moist but obviously needed salt.

The brined chicken was quite succulent, but the meat was noticeably squishier. I think the brining also gives you room for error in cooking time, maybe…

And the pre-salted treatment–a pain in the ass because it requires at least a day of pre-planning–was only so-so. It should’ve been moister also considering I put lemons inside it. (The stuffing was the only variable. The other two birds got crammed full of garlic cloves.)

Wow, what a science fair project a kid could get out of this…

Anyway, don’t get me wrong–I still love fresh-killed meat and I feel like I should support it. On this last visit, I was talking to the owner of the place, a very nice Egyptian guy who has let me run a tab before. He always looks a little beat–turns out this is because he lost his job as a restaurant manager after September 11, and has been working seven days a week at the poultry place since then, and has to drive up from Brooklyn, and isn’t able to find a trustworthy person to work a couple days a week. Well, I went straight home and called Peter. I’ll love fresh-killed meat even more if Peter’s doing the hacking….

All that said, I can’t wait for spring and real vegetables. If I go into a vegan phase, at least there’s Dennis Kucinich as a role model. Hmm.