Yesterday was the day that Peppa was butchered, and although I knew it was happening, and I had complete confidence that the butchers knew exactly what they were doing, I had a few stressful moment leading up to yesterday. I have learnt that with farming, you cannot get attached to anything, as things die, they go wrong, and this can cause heartache. With everything I do in life I stand back and assess the outcome, I research, take notes and ensure that it was the right decision, and Peppa was no different.
Raising Peppa for food was an experience, and I can stand with my head held high knowing that she had an amazing five months, she ate the best, lived like a queen and was treated with care and love. The atmosphere yesterday was calm, quiet and organised, which is not like casa chaos. The children knew Peppa was going, my daughter shed a few tears, but understood that this was going to happen, and maybe wished she hadn't got so attached.
As Peppa was lead from her pen, she followed dutifully, and in a weird way knew her fate, she didn't bolt, and run around which she typically does, she calmly accepted this was the end of her journey. I will not go into graphic details, as I do not need any more complaints, however, the butchers were skilled at their task, and the job was completed quickly, and efficiently.
The butchering process was interesting, and we were there for every stage, discussing what we did want, and what they could take. The Spanish eat every part of their animals, which I find fantastic, however, we don't so when offered the brains, heart and tongue, I received strange looks when I declined. However when I said that I wanted the liver and kidneys, they seemed puzzled.
We discovered that a huge majority of the pig was fat, and even the butchers said she was incredibly fat, and that she should have been leaner. There were several learning curves, which I will take forward, to determine whether we will go down the pig rearing journey again. However, the morning was a success, we had a butchered pig, a freezer full of meat, and a happy butcher.
Our pig raising journey was complete, we had seen it to the end, and been there at every stage. I still stand by the fact that our method was natural, humane and will produce the freshest pork. My children were mature, and walked away without comment when they had seen enough, and returned when they felt it was right.
I am proud of my daughter, as although she might not have agreed with the butchering, she was there from start to finish, which showed an immense amount of maturity. She helped to clean up, clean the meat, chop and bag the meat, and even muttered that the butchers were skilled. At present she is refusing to eat the pork, I'm hoping this will change in the future, who knows! I keep being asked if we will get another pig, my son wants one to call it Hamlet!! hmmmm at the moment I am enjoying the fact that I do not have to worry if a 100KG lump is smashing anything up...in the future....never say never....
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