Monmouth County Meat Factory

Monday morning I woke with the brilliant idea of going to what I thought was a goat farm in Monmouth county.  As it turned out, they sold birds of all sorts, goats, pigs, sheep, and cows.  This was such an interesting place and could have been incredible.  They just don't do it the right way.  I walked into the small building that was overly subdivided into pens housing birds of all sorts.  There was a television in this "barn" (I struggle with calling this structure a barn) that was blaring Jerry Springer reruns.  The tv was so loud that when I was asking about the different varieties of birds, I couldn't hear a thing that the shopkeeper said.  He was completely uninterested in anything except Jerry.  Thankfully there was a not-so-lovely spanish speaking woman who reluctantly helped me with my many questions.  Somewhere in the conversation I picked out a duck and purchased it.  She not so gently carried the duck down the driveway to another building where the animals were processed.  She passed the duck to a man with a knife.  Emotionless, he cut the ducks throat and let it bleed out in a giant plastic garbage can.  The lifeless duck was then tossed into a bath of hot water to scald its skin.  This helped with removing its feathers.  Most of the feathers were removed by hand but just to be certain, he threw the duck into a giant mechanical spinner.  The machine threw the duck around like a pair of jeans in a clothes dryer.  He then brought the duck to his cutting board where he removed its organs, stuffing the good ones back into the cavity.  He asked me if I wanted the head, which of course I did.  He stuffed the duck into a plastic bag.  He surprisingly double bagged it without having to ask.  I gently placed the duck in the backseat of my car and quickly left. 

On the drive to back to North Jersey, I couldn't stop thinking about the lack of care and how factory-like this experience was.  My first experience of this kind was last winter in upstate New York.  This was eye-opening in a very different way.  It was pure and almost ritualistic.  The farm was run by an older man and his three grown children.  They took care of the animals properly and loved them.  There were chickens waddling around the barn and surrounding property.  There were horses, goats, and cows and pigs.  Some of the animals were free to roam the property and others were kept in enclosures but were not overcrowded.  While we were there, we took one of the pigs and a horse for a walk and fed a baby cow.  This was a farm.
Getting back to the Monmouth County "farm", I was under the impression that the eggs were laid on the premise.  Not the case.  I thought the animals were raised on their property.  Not the case.  This was basically a facility to kill, clean, and sell.  They purchased their animals from "somewhere" in the midwest and killed them when necessary.  The workers were emotion-less, uncaring, and devoid of any passion.  The animalswere unimportant and the life that they took was meaningless.  

This experience was equally as eye-opening as last years pilgrimage to the NY farm.  Meat is an animal that once had life.  It should be treated with respect, dignity, and care.  It should be consumed with this understanding and eaten in small quantities.  I know that this Monmouth County "farm" is a much better place to buy meat as compared to a local supermarket.  I am certain that it is not nearly as bad as other meat "factories" that just line up and kill animals like they are widgets.  I want to see these factories and experience this.  Maybe then I'll think differently about the Monmouth County "farm".  But until then, I'm going to appreciate my meat for what it is: an animal.

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Comments

[gerimiller@myhgel.com]

I am so glad I saw this blog. I saw the separately posted pictures of the Monmouth County 'farm' w/o captions and wondered (because I'm just getting to know you) if this was an operation or method you supported. Thankfully, faith is restored...by a blog.
Thank you for your higher thinking and soulful approach to that which feeds us. Although I've seen your restaurant on my many visits Maplewood, I've not eaten there. On my next visit I will not only stop in but make sure I introduce myself.

Respectfully,
Geri Miller
Home Grown Edible Landscapes
Los Angeles