Field Studies: Chicken

After school yesterday, I picked up eight "Young Chickens" (Foster Farm, "All-Natural"): 38-1/4 pounds at $0.69 per pound. Two hours later (with several interruptions to respond to IM, which necessitated hand washing), I had nine pounds of boneless, skinless chicken breast; 12 pounds of legs/thighs; three pounds of chicken wings (the drummie and flat section only, no tips); eight ounces of chicken livers; 12 ounces of chicken fat; and seven pounds of bones and giblets for stock (for a total of 32-1/4 pounds.) I had six pounds of waste (packaging and skin), so my yield was 84%, and my actual per-pound cost was $0.82 per pound.

Boneless skinless breasts are running about $2.49 per pound, so nine pounds would have run me about $22.41. I was out $4.00 more than that, with an additional 15 pounds of edible chicken, plus bones.

I need more freezer bags, though.

We began class today with a demonstration of the fabrication of a whole pork loin. This, to me, seems like the most interesting and worthwhile "big cut" to obtain and fabricate at home. (Any of you Costco shoppers: do they sell whole pork loin there?) You begin by removing the pork tenderloin. Then there are a number of cutting, flipping, spinning, and snapping maneuvers to remove the bones (you'll end up with baby back ribs. No singing.) ("Point the knife towards the bone, and away from the money.") Then you chop off the two ends, both of which have a bone or two to remove, and lots of fat: trim these for stew or grinding. You're left with a long even muscle with a meaty edge (the lip) that you also cut away and put on the trim pile. The remaining piece of meat is about 18 inches long, with substantial intermuscular fat on both ends but with a middle section, about nine inches, of perfectly beauteous lean pork: a center cut pork loin roast, or chops. There's a lot of interesting meat to be had for about an hour's worth of labor.

Poultry was slammed today, with an order for 60 skinless, boneless breasts and 70 skinless, boneless legs/thighs, so my Hooves designation went by the wayside. I can practically cut apart a chicken with my eyes closed, but I won't be trying it. My hands, the left one in particular, have suffered during butchery. Though there are no dishes to wash, I've just nicked myself with the tip of the boning knife a number of times, and I've scraped a few knuckles on fishbones and wishbones. Last night, as I added a pinch of salt to dinner, I realized that I'd get "salt in the wound" using either hand. The thing is, the cutting is real tactile — you really do need to get your hands into your work, to see where things come apart naturally, to feel for hidden joints — and it's really cold.

I got a bonus assignment: boning the half-breasts off of a whole turkey breast "on the bone," and tying them up into roasts. Just like a chicken, only bigger!

Chef Allen lectured on the breakdown of the sub-primal cuts of the hind-quarter. Much of the discussion was about the alternate names for the various parts, some of which are regional, all of which can serve to confuse the consumer and benefit the purveyor. For example, there is no single cut which is the "London Broil": the term designates the place of origin and the style of cooking. But you might find bottom sirloin, top sirloin or flank steak labeled "London Broil," at various times and for a variety of prices.

David taught me the "correct" way to prepare London Broil: Place the steak in a baking pan just big enough to hold it. Pierce both sides with a fork, a bunch of times, then season both sides generously with salt and pepper. Sprinkle both sides with several cloves of finely minced garlic, about a tablespoon total. Add about 1/2 cup each of soy sauce and teriyaki sauce. Let the meat marinate for several hours at room temperature, turning occasionally. Remove the meat from the marinade before broiling or grilling to taste (we like ours rare). You can bring the marinade to a boil for a quick sauce, adding sliced sautéed mushrooms, if you like. Next time I make it, I'll know to swirl in a little whole butter at the end, to round out all the flavors.