Carmen, still waiting, with Vernon, the utter boar. Cigars are in order! At last, Miranda, one of our Tamworth/Ossabaw sows, has farrowed (‘given birth’ in pig farm lingo). Good thing too, as she looked ready to explode. The large size of the piglets suggests that she was late. She has produced nine, all healthy, most polka dotted, at least one Tamworth red, several completely black. Now Vern, the Utter Boar, is complaining: Since it is Father's Day, why has Miranda received all the credit, and he none? So we dedicate this poem to Vern.
TWO SOWS WHO LIKE TO SAMBA by Peter Davies ( to be read to a samba beat) I'm Carmen! I'm Miranda! We're two sows who like to samba! We samba here! We samba there! We samba sans our underwear! But not without our turbans on! Without our turbans all is gone! Our turbans piled with fruit and nuts From tiny grapes to coconuts! While our pen is far from Rio, It shakes, o me! o my! o mio! Like bums and boobs at Mardi Gras. As we twist and turn, our last hurrah, Two sows who love to samba, Known as Carmen and Miranda! So momma Miranda has had to put her turban away for a while. Now we are waiting for Carmen. Not to be outdone, our Karakul sheep, who had already produced 22 lambs for us this season , came through once again. Roxelana produced a very large, healthy black ramling. Since Roxelana leads a rather quiet life she has not yet inspired a poem. Of course, her namesake, the famous, or, perhaps infamous, Roxelana, wife to Sultan Suleyman, the Magnificent, lived a life enough for two Roxelanas. Appropriately, this is the first lamb sired by the new ram, Suleyman, who arrived in December. But enough about pigs. Since we are about ready to release our ducklings and goslings from their brooder pens, it seems a good time to write about them.
Several hundred years ago French farmers were raising a duck that resembled a large mallard (in fact, most of our domestic breeds of ducks descend from the mallard). Around 1800 these ducks were imported into England, where they were called by various names, which finally shook down to “Rouen”. The English immediately set to work redesigning the bird through selective breeding, doubling its size and transforming its sleek body into a thickset boat shape. Around the 1850’s the Rouen found its way to the United States and the breed soon became popular as a colorful, all purpose farm duck with a reputation for being a fine roasting duck with delicately flavored flesh. We agree. We have also discovered that, unlike the Peking duck, which dominates duck production these days, they are not overly fatty and do not require all of the rendering of fat Pekings require. Significantly French recipes for duck do not begin with suggestions to, for instance, steam the duck before roasting. The Rouen produces enough fat for gravy making and to fry potatoes in, but not so much that you are constantly ladling it from the roasting pan. If the Rouen duck is such a fine duck, you might ask, then why has it largely been displaced by the Peking duck? The usual culprit: the economics of industrialized farming. The Rouen duck is extremely slow to mature, requiring six to eight months to reach market size, more than twice the length of a Peking. (Last year, led astray by mis-information from the hatchery, we sent them to market significantly sooner. This year they will be meatier.) So with the Rouen, we are talking about requiring twice the care time and twice the feed . Further, strangely enough, we have learned that color is a factor: A white duck, which the Peking is, is much easier and faster to pluck clean, particular in the pin feather area. Slaughter houses, therefore, charge more to process non-white ducks. In other words, the factors that shape poultry production in industrial farming are, like everything in this country, determined by the bottom line, not by factors like quality and flavor. Until recently, the Rouen duck, once one of our most common farm ducks, has been in serious decline, and is now in the “Watch” category of The American Livestock Breeds Conservancy. Because of the beauty of its feathers and form, it had largely been relegated to being a show bird. But it seems to be making a comeback. The 2000 census of the ALBC reported there were 5,043 breeding Rouen ducks in the country, and thirty- one people breeding them. By raising these ducks we are supporting the breeders, and you, by eating them, ironically, ensure the breed’s survival.
The name “Toulouse” is used for several types of grey geese descended from the European Greylag. At Turkana, we are raising the “Production” version of the breed, which has, until recent times, served as a utility bird on small farms and homesteads, where it was raised for its eggs, meat, cooking fat, and foie gras. In the past, it should be remembered, goose fat was a primary source for cooking fats and lubricants. To produce foie gras, requires a process called “noodling,” whereby the farmer either massages or, brace yourself, augers (look it up) “noodles”—a grain mash—down the goose's throat, thus producing the oversized, diseased liver prized as foie gras. Note: this is a practice we do not engage in. Like the Rouen duck, the Toulouse goose’s fortunes have declined with the disappearance of small farms and the rise of industrialized agriculture. While their dark feathers provide good camouflage and a neater appearance than white feathered geese, their dark pin-feathers show on plucked carcasses. This trait limits their use commercially, since consumers prefer the plucked appearance of white feathered breeds and commercial growers do not want the additional expense incurred in processing colored poultry. Another factor in their exclusion from the commercial market: they are challenging to raise successfully because they do not reproduce consistently until two or three years of age, and their eggs seem to be less fertile than other breeds'. A number of our customers have commented that our Toulouse are not overly fatty and do not require all of the rendering associated with cooking most geese. Whether this is endemic to the breed or because they live on pasture, we do not know. We enjoy having them around because of their placid, non-aggressive dispositions. Unlike our raucous Chinese geese, three of which we keep as watchdogs to protect all the goslings, our Toulouse geese seem serenely oblivious, quietly going about the business of grazing on pasture with an occasional treat of grain.
