Eating Elly

Naming Chickens?

I took that survey and of course announced that I’d eat a named critter. I’d much rather eat someone I’ve known and loved rather than a nameless critter on a factory farm. (Cool new map that shows you the factory farms near you.)

As a matter of fact, it’s our 20th Anniversary today. Our tradition has been to go to Cherry Garden in Keene and have Peking Duck. We’ve done it since the day we got married. Lately, we’ve been taking our own ducks and having them prepare it. Yum oh yum.

But we forgot to drop one off when we were in town, so we’re having a tenderloin from Elly. It’s a special occasion, after all. I made a special fancy horseradish sauce that I want to use from horseradish that Frank just dug up. Maybe some of our potatoes and a creamed spinach? That’s such a great zero-mile meal.

So, yeah. We’re eating Elly. She continues to enrich our lives. Thanks!

1 thought on “Eating Elly”

  1. I loved raising and later tasting my own ducks. Tried to eat one of my rams that had gone berserk, his name was Genghis Khan, and he was a bit too much so we donated him to the local sled dogs in Elmore.


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