trust the spirit
twenty five degrees, hunker down time.
babies look good. mama is being good.
it’s all good.
I'm High On Cooking | in Farm, VIDEOS, livestock | tagged fowler farms, naturally raised pigs, naturally reared, piglets me, personally? the way i act around the pigs is always very calm and mild mannered. if they are going to remember only one single thing about me, i’d prefer it to be that they are comfortable with me in their space.
as the video footage documents, chef francois takes a slightly different “approach” to managing the hogs. if you listen closely, you can hear him justify this assault with “i gotta get a quick weight on brutus.”
poor brutus.
I'm High On Cooking | in Farm, VIDEOS, livestock | tagged berkshire, naturally raised pigs, naturally reared, pasture, pasture pigs, pig slop, raised hogs, tamworth I'm High On Cooking | in Farm, Restaurants, livestock | tagged naturally reared, pasture pigs, pasture raised pork, pig circus in an attempt to out class each other, our two litters of piglets—the dark ones, purebred berkshires, and the spotted ones, tamworth/berkshire crosses—have been going head-to-head in non stop competition to determine which litter is the king of pork chop hill.
below is a pair of photos from the sleeping competition, which came just after nipple sucking and right before nipple sucking.
is the winner the spotted tam/berk crosses, performing a classic stack and sleep? or is it the purebred berks, performing the rarely seen batpig pile on? you be the judge.
I'm High On Cooking | in Farm, livestock | tagged Bulls, naturally raised pigs, naturally reared, pasture pigs another graduating class of piglets make their first little hoof prints on the rough streets of general population. as they leave the small piglet pen they have inhabited for the last month, they are leaving behind their entire world. it’s all they know.
knew.
for the first time in what feels like forever a substantial rain has fallen. in mid summer it seemed like the rain would never stop, and then just in time to get what we wished for, it hasn’t rained since.
bed rows at the vegetable farm are cracked over and crusty. pork chop hill has a dust cloud swirling over head. and the grass. well, let’s just call it thirsty.
all day today, the crack pop of thunder and the drip drap of rain lulled the town to a hushed pace—singing lullabies with the wind and painting the sky a heavy grey.