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Hog-killing time used to be a necessity and a social event. By Donnie Johnston Date published: 11/29/2008
UMMM. I can still When I was a child, someone in the neighborhood would have been killing hogs this weekend. The weather would have been perfect--not so warm that the meat would spoil and not so cold that it would freeze and not take salt. Hog-killing time was a big event for country people. Vegetables and fruit were raised and canned in the summer, but it was early winter when the year's meat supply was put away. And pork--we always just called it "hog meat"--was Yes, we had chicken on Sunday (I never had a steak until I was 19), but pork was Every skillet was greased with lard, which was also the shortening used in hot biscuits. Hog killing was an all-day affair. It began before daylight when the fires under the scalding box were lit and the water heated near the boiling point. Neighbors would gather, and each person had his Some were shot and then bled, while others were just "stuck." Bleeding was necessary to make the meat better. After they were killed, the hogs were rolled into the scalding box so that the hot water would loosen the hair, which would then be scraped off. As soon as the carcasses had cooled, the cutting began. This took great skill, and the job was not left to just anyone. This person had to know his business. Hams and shoulders were neatly worked, with the trimmings tossed into a pan and saved to be ground into sausage. Hog killing was hard work that mostly had to be done outside in the cold. By the end of the day hands felt as if they were about frozen. Still, the job had to be done.
Date published: 11/29/2008
Yea I guess some people may call it barbaric or inhumane, but where do they think that sausage and bacon they buy at the store come from? Hmmm.
PETA's sense of reality is turned upside down so let them whine all they want. The fact remains that Donnie is right on: among rural middle class American families, raising and butchering hogs was a necessity for many as recently as a generation ago--and maybe even for some of those PETA folks' families as well. My father's family was too poor to own hogs but my mother's family raised them well into their later years. I hated the smell of that hog meat being canned, but thanks for the memories, Donnie.
Good Job Donnie, I'll wait for the letters from PETA to roll in.
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