Sunday, May 20, 2007

Fancy Chicken Food, and Chicken Obituary

Many moons ago T. worked as a Server for a high-end catering company that used to be based out of N.W. Portland. He'd bring home pounds and pounds of fancy foods for the chickens. It was major entertainment in our house, listening to him present the carefully-crafted dishes while the chickens were riotously inhaling all around his feet.

"This is a wild-rice pilaf, with spring vegetables and a champagne vinaigrette."


"And here we have some lovely crepes stuffed with smoked salmon and cream cheese, lightly sprinkled with minced chives."

CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP *fight over positioning, squawk* CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP

T. would look up from his duties and say "Hell, this is just like work!."

This morning, the girls got a nice big stalk of bolting chard that we let overwinter for their first course. We have lots of green leafy vegetables that overwintered, look pretty beat up, and are getting big and tall while bolting for spring. They are great chicken graze. They also got a nice big bowl of The Wife's famous Puttanesca on wavy noodles, and over-ripe banana and some flour leavings. They're macking right now as I type.

Between kitchen leftovers, greens, and the worms I toss in with shovelfuls out of the compost pile, our chickens get some great nutrients added to their standard "high lay crumble" food diet. This is how we get such incredibly rich eggs, with deep sunflower gold yolks that stand up very high. There is a lot of variety in the eggs as well, since not all chickens go for all the different types of food we give them. Some are all over the worms, some the greens, etc.

Chicken Obituary: Yesterday, Mata Hari was interred underneath one of the last vegetable beds that hasn't been planted yet. She was old, probably the oldest chicken we had. She was a banty, black body and gold-lace head and neck -- very cute, very sturdy little bird. Had I known she was going to be leaving us, I would have taken a portrait. I'm thinking she was at least 7-8 years old. She went in her sleep, as they often do when they die of old age. She's now earth food.


Terrie said...


HA ha ha ha! I am now cleaning coffee off myself. I can see that happening.
I am sorry about your girl. It is hard to loose them so suddenly.

Terrie in Oregon City

stingite said...

although you have to fight for it and eat it off the ground . . . life is good in that corner of the landis yard. I could use some of that puntanesca. (p.s. We still cook that recipe up ever since you shared the secret. shhhh)

Bpaul said...

Whups, sorry about the coffee incident Terrie.

By the way everyone else, Terrie is a local Chicken Celebrity! I am honored by your presence Madame.

Stingite, hey it's survival of the fittest around here -- you know that going in, we don't hide it.

CtheG said...

oh puntanesca! I want some too. send me the secret.
This post made me giggle imagining Tate explaining the meal the chickens were going to receive. THAT is CLASSIC TATE! LOVE THAT.
Sorry about the chicken too! I too wish you had taken a portrait, maybe you can draw me a picture of her.