This is for all of us that eat meat. Chicken in particular.

Roast chicken and grilled eggplant lasagne

I’ve taken a few picks of the change from feathered bird to meal on a plate. Something of which is missing in the process of purchasing a chicken pre-packaged at a supermarket. Hopefully it not too disturbing for the people that constantly donate birds to me.

One day when I finally own my little farm I shall raise my own flock of chooks and ducks and every now and then I will dispatch a bunch and fill up my freezer.
By the way, I think I’ll pop this one in the book. Only two more recipes to go.

The meal.

A tattooed portly man holding the raw materials. In this case an un-named unwanted male cock.

The killing cone. It’s all done in a second. Laser sharp knife to the jugular, and a break of the neck.

It’s gory. This is the stuff you don’t see when you bite into a chicken Subway. But you did it. Just indirectly.