My Father, The Butcher

Sara wrote:

> Now, as far as I know, the fresh meat arrives at the
> supermarket from a central processing plant.
> Somewhere in that chain, the meat is kashered before
> it arrives at the kosher retail counter. Or it is delivered
> to a butcher kashered ready to be cut.

My father was a Kosher Butcher and I recall that if a customer wanted the meat kashered, they would request it that way. For this service, they would leave a tip. Otherwise, the customer would take it home and kosher
it themselves.

As far as flicking (plucking the feathers) the chicken, I once asked my Dad to bring home a feathered chicken for me to pluck. I want to tell you I couldn't pull out the first feather. There was a knack to it. Besides, the chicken was full of lice!! I was itchy, and decided that wasn't such a good idea.

I recall the "ayelah," the unborn eggs. We used to fight to eat them. The chicken feet? We used to suck the little meat off each toe. We loved it. Of course, we first peeled off the skin and it was already cooked in the chicken soup.

Occasionally, here in Charleston, I see those chicken feet in the Super Market and it brings back memories. I'm still looking for the ayelah.

I thought I'd wake up those memories and share them with you.

Posted by Rita Busman