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How truly pasture-raised chicken benefits you

written by

Michelle Sroka

posted on

June 8, 2023

What's the secret to the best chicken that you've ever tasted? 

It's quite simple, really: to raise AND process that chicken on the farm.

If this sounds like an oversimplification, let me assure you that the transportation our food routinely undergoes DOES have a significant impact on taste and quality.

Consider, for example, the fruit you see at the supermarket that's been shipped from South America. Does it taste just as flavorful and fresh as local fruit from a u-pick farm? Does it keep in your refrigerator for as long as an item from your local farm's CSA? 

Of course not. Although our transportation system has many benefits, like making food available year-round and allowing previously exotic foods to become more accessible, we also usually experience a decline in quality and freshness.

This isn't just a matter of taste -- or how long it keeps in the fridge, however. A lower-quality product also means a product that offers less to you as a consumer. This is true from a nutritional standpoint, and also an experiential one.

Our customers routinely tell me that our chicken is the best they've ever tasted. They want to know the secret -- and I tell them that it's because we kill the chickens by hand, on our own farm.

To consider why this matters, think about what it would take to transport a chicken to a processing facility. In North Carolina, where there is no USDA processing facility, this would mean transporting the birds out of state.

So imagine the journey: the poultry are crammed together in a crate, for a few hours or perhaps longer. Because they're crammed together, they become hot and dehydrated. And, as they get on the road, they're bombarded by sights and sounds that are loud and overwhelming -- creating stress overall, and tension in their muscles.

Then, when they reach the facility, they enter into an even more stressful environment. Chickens are routinely electrified first as part of their harvesting -- or even gassed. Once they've been killed, they're routinely washed in bleach to prevent the growth of unwanted bacteria.

One of the biggest problems with this system? No matter how the chicken has been raised, a high-stress environment at the end of life directly impacts the quality of meat. When animals are stressed (especially for prolonged periods of time), their glycogen is depleted. This alters their pH, resulting in less enzyme activity in the meat, and therefore a less tender product for you. 

As farmers committed to the most humane practices -- and for you, as a consumer who wants the best food -- there has to be a better way.

That's why we've invested in creating a simple processing facility on our farm. We kill each chicken by hand, in the most humane manner possible, in the least stressful conditions.

We do this with a small crew of local helpers, who are highly skilled and compassionate. We work together at each step along the way. And they're fairly compensated -- so that money stays within our local economy.

We don't use any harsh chemicals or additives that you're trying to avoid, either. Chickens are lightly sprayed with a simple water/vinegar mixture, and flash frozen to ensure the best quality and longest shelf life. 

You're looking for a farm that's committed to raising chickens in the best way possible. Shouldn't this extend into what happens when these animals are harvested, too?

chicken

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Can we care about animals - and still raise them for food?

I probably spend the most time with the pigs on our farm. Part of this is practical: since pigs can’t sweat, we spray them down twice a day to help them wallow in the mud and stay cool.  But part of it is emotional, too. I enjoy being around the pigs. When there’s a lot on my mind, or I’ve spent too much time on the computer and need to get outside, wandering over to that week’s pig paddock is one of the ways I can clear my mind.  Pigs are highly emotive and responsive. When I spray them down with the hose, they like to sit back on their haunches, prick back their ears, and snap playfully at the water as it showers down on them. And then joyfully roll around in the mud afterward, of course.  But they’re responsive to humans in general, too. They are naturally curious and, in the case of our heritage breed Red Wattles, gentle. They’ll come up and sniff you, rub their mud-streaked bellies over you, and let you scratch their ears.  And maybe this is the part where you start to wonder: But aren’t you raising them for food?  Why would you want an emotional connection to an animal that you are raising for food?  I understand where this question is coming from. I was a vegetarian for nearly a decade because I didn’t like the thought of killing animals, especially within the framework of our industrial food system.  But actually, it isn’t a problem or moral quandary for me. Yes, we grow fond of and attached to our animals, including our pigs.  Yes, we still send them to the butcher or process them on our farm for food. And yes, this still makes sense to me.  I would gently suggest that the idea that we shouldn’t have any emotional connection to our food - that we can only eat meat that comes from animals we withhold our emotions or affection from - is a sign of our disconnection to the way food is grown.  That is, after all, one of the premises of industrial agriculture. Designate animals with one sole purpose - “becoming food” - and then shut them away in buildings, cramped quarters, or far away from humans who might interact with them beyond the farmer.  And the farmer, too, should be as disconnected as possible. After all, this is an efficient machine.  The problem, from a regenerative perspective, is that growing food is never just about growing food. Food is the gift you receive at the end of your work, but it’s the work itself - and the consequences of the work beyond the food - that is the point.  The work, on our farm, is caring for the land. That means working alongside animals to nurture native plants, clear forest areas to make existing trees healthier, and create habitats for birds, pollinators, and wildlife.  And that means becoming attentive and thoughtful - to animals and to the land. Watching, learning, and yes, developing bonds with the habitats you’re nurturing and the animals that are helping you do so.  Is it sad to load up animals and take them to the butcher at the end of the season? Yes, it often can be. But I don’t feel guilty about it. I know that we’ve given them the best life possible, and that we’ve partnered with them to leave our farm better than we found it each year.  And if that doesn’t make sense, that’s okay. I’m not saying that everyone has to agree with me. I’d simply like to advocate for a way of farming and consuming meat that includes this experience - one of affection and bonding between animals and humans.  After all, this is one of the many ways we try to do things differently on our farm. We don’t want to just provide you with food that meets your standards - non-GMO, no vaccines, no antibiotics, grass-fed and pasture-raised.  We also want to help you reconnect with that food. And part of that is knowing the animals, hearing stories about them, and yes, maybe even having an emotional connection with them, despite the end goal of providing meat to you.