Taking on turkeys: 2

The turkeys went too far. They killed two of our roosters, albeit they were headed for the pot too.

We found the turkeys leaning over the bodies, pecking at them. How they actually carried out the murders we don't know, but there are no other suspects.

So, what do we do with five free range turkeys that are now in the freezer?

Roast turkey, obviously, but I'd like some other ideas too... keeping in mind that because the turkeys have been running around outside they'll have leaner, darker meat.

Any suggestions?

Taking on turkeys

My mother hates turkeys. Which is probably why Guy decided we needed to get some.

On a Saturday morning a couple of months ago we were at the Burnie Farmers' Market. Guy had been relaxing reading the paper ("I just get in your way behind the stall anyway...") and I was serving customers, when I heard Guy on the phone, "we'll take the lot".

"We'll take the lot of what?"

Well, you know the answer.

Fortunately by the time we had a chance to drive to Kimberley to pick up the turkeys "the lot" had lessened significantly and there were only 18 left. Only.

These turkeys are just your common white ones, and we're considering them trial turkeys before we source a rare breed.

Fifty-three per cent of the world's turkey breeds are actually at risk of extinction. Almost all turkey meat you buy comes from one breed alone, the Broad Breasted White.

The turkeys weren't a problem when we first got them. They stalked around shyly and kept a good distance. Ten disappeared one night, probably taken by quolls or devils, but not a feather was left.

The remaining eight are now into everything. My car is covered in huge, muddy convict-like prints from bonnet to boot. There are black, smelly messes across the yard - and down the gravel road to our neighbour's house where she kicked them out four times on Friday.

They climb and try to balance on everything. They've eaten my kohl rabi seedlings. They're harrassing the ducks. And this morning there were heavy noises on the roof.

There is one thing I don't mind about them: they make so many different chortling, guttural, peck-peck-peck sounds, and it's quite comforting to hear them chat away as they ambush the other animals.

And in the evenings they climb onto the stable roof, wobble forward and back at the peak, and watch the sunset.

But what I'm really looking forward to is a free range roast turkey. And it won't be long now.

Simplicity in a sheep's innards

I remember being mesmerised by sausage-tying as a child watching a game show on the ABC.

It was a program where school-aged contestants were shown by the experts how to lay bricks, or tie sausages, and then had to do it themselves in front of the cameras with a clock ticking.

We had our first go at making sausages at home this week: boning out pork shoulders, mincing, seasoning, encasing and ultimately tying.

Our bookshelves are crammed with books on meat cooking, charcuterie, and old farm skills, but I decided to keep it simple the first time, and followed a DVD, Pig in a Day, by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. Hugh’s a chef, writer, and smallholder in the UK on a mission to enthuse people to grow and cook ethical, wholesome food.

I watched as Hugh demonstrated the right meat to fat ratio coming through the mincer. I watched the adding of oven-dried breadcrumbs, of salt, pepper, mace and other spices. I concentrated hard on the even-filling of the sausage casings, and the elusive sausage tying. I rewound the frames and watched again.

And then it was my turn.

I’m not sure about the breadcrumbs. I added the proportion Hugh said, but I think it was too much. Our butcher Neville at the abattoir says there was no need for breadcrumbs, so I think next time I’ll try without.

And more fat - there wasn’t enough sizzle. I think I’ll save some up from our bacon.

And salt, not quite enough salt.

But they look alright don’t they? And how about that sausage-tying in groups of three for a first time?!

*Top picture: Neighbour Tom enjoyed the mincing, but wasn't so keen on filling the sheep intestine casings.

Gnawing on a tail

Start collecting tails and try the recipe.

Saving the Dairy Shorthorn

What does a rare breed farmer get for Christmas?

More animals!

We have been incredibly fortunate to source a small herd of endangered traditional dairy shorthorn cattle from Western Creek breeders Betty and Warrick Holmes.

Western Creek is under the Western Tiers behind Deloraine, and Betty and Warrick are reluctantly selling their animals and farm so they can move back to New Zealand to be with family.

The dairy shorthorns are absolutely beautiful beasts, with quiet and gentle natures, and we are so pleased that the Holmes’ have entrusted us with their care.

They’re a dual purpose breed which means they’re good for both milk and beef, and they’ve been around for about 200 years.

In the early 1900s the dairy shorthorn was the main breed of cattle in Britain, and was called the “farmer’s cow of England”. It fitted in well with the routine of a mixed farm.

But in a similar story to the Wessex Saddleback pigs, as farming intensified, the breed began to be lost.

Farmers were looking for either high milk production, or heavy carcass weight, and it’s hard to soup-up a cow to do both.

Around the world the dairy shorthorn genetics have been altered to focus on either of these traits, but we’re lucky in Australia there has been a concerted effort to preserve the original dual purpose genes. There's also good old stock in Ireland.

In Australia traditional dairy shorthorns are on the rare breeds list under ‘endangered’, along with traditional herefords and traditional angus.

Aren’t their coats lovely? Ours are mostly roan (red sprinkled with white) but we also have a pure white cow and a few white calves. They can also come in red.

We think they deserve to be held back from extinction because they're perfect for the smallholder wanting to milk a few cows and produce a decent beef animal for the freezer. They're also docile and calve easily. Dairy shorthorns were the foundation stock for many other red breeds, including illawarras and ayrshires.

Neither of us drink much milk, but Guy's already making plans for a small milking shed, and Eliza's digging out her cheese books. It'll be great to have our own yoghurt, butter and cheese to go with our homegrown meat and vegetables.

Warrick and Betty Holmes say goodbye to their cattle