Shadrach's Ex Battery and Rescued chickens thread.

[RoyalChick]

The preparation methods matter a lot. According to Jo Robinson, Eating on the wild side 2013: 186-193 if you simmer dried beans until they're done and then let them soak in the cooking liquid for an additional hour, the beans reabsorb some of the nutrients from the cooking liquor. And dried beans that were soaked then cooked in a pressure cooker retained the most antioxidant activity, as well as cooked faster. And bizarrely, when dried beans are canned they become more nutritious (in contrast to fresh peas and beans). The heat of the canning process enhances their nutritional value, making canned beans among the most nutritious foods in the supermarket.

I suspect the best may be the enemy of the good in the preparation of peas, beans, pulses, legumes or whatever they are called.
I think I will continue to soak overnight and cook in the morning, eat in the middle of the day and give the leftovers to the chickens before bed.
Maybe there is a more nutritious way for them and me, but this is working for me and I suspect is probably OK in the nutrition front and almost certainly better for all of us than a McDonalds or similar!

 

[RoyalChick]

But not the calendar. It didn't catch on. It did however leave a legacy that makes the life of historians having to deal with documents from France in the period in question a REAL headache )

https://www.worldhistory.org/French_Republican_Calendar/

I knew about that but had forgotten. I can only imagine how complicated that makes historical study - but I guess if you are an historian it is also part of the interest.

 

[Perris]

I suspect the best may be the enemy of the good in the preparation of peas, beans, pulses, legumes or whatever they are called.
I think I will continue to soak overnight and cook in the morning, eat in the middle of the day and give the leftovers to the chickens before bed.
Maybe there is a more nutritious way for them and me, but this is working for me and I suspect is probably OK in the nutrition front and almost certainly better for all of us than a McDonalds or similar!

I think any traditional method of food prep is pretty reliable; it developed through a process of trial and error on locally grown foodstuffs, long before labs existed and without any mathematical input. Natural selection is pretty good at weeding out bad ideas in that sort of environment

 

[ManueB]

Someone must have thought a rational analysis of the nutrients in the human's ration included sampling.
(At least this time she had the courtesy of not stepping in and scratching the food around.)

We are taught the revolutionary calendar as children so it feels like a game, the names of the months are fun and make it easy to remember. Still, I forgot it growing up and I admit I had to do the correspondence when I studied the revolution again as a young adult.

I hate that the US have these eccentric measures for cooking because everytime I find an American recipe, I have to look up the amounts of the various ingredients in grams and I haven't found a trustworthy single converter.
And I wonder how do you actually know what a cup is ? Do you have specific cups for measuring or is it just any cup and whatever happens, happens...

And to go back to the chickens, maybe it's the novelty but none of mine have ever refused anything I offered cooked, unless it was really mushy and sticky, whereas they have shun some of the raw food I thought they could like.

 

[TropicalChickies]

One year ago today, this holy terror of a bird broke out of a egg bought for twenty-five cents from a neighbor, one day before his only hatchmate.

Baby Lucio, 1 yr ago

The two chicks, Paco and Lucio (named after the great Spanish flamenco guitarista Paco de Lucia), were raised by a feral broody foster mother named Cheri (after the lead singer of the seminal 1970s all-girl rock band The Runaways). Cheri rejected all offered food and raised them on a wild foraged diet. A fearsome fighter herself, she instilled her warrior spirit in the growing cockerels.

Paco and Lucio warred with impressive acrobatic and flying skill. They didn't do much damage to each other, but put on a Kung Fu theatre worthy show.

Cheri heavily favored Paco. Strange, because Lucio resembled her much more in color and even comb type. At four months, when Paco began to crow, she protected Paco and bullied Lucio, even intervening in their battles to grab Lucio by the neck and toss him roughly aside.

Then, early one morning in March, Cheri quite abruptly died. Literally dropped dead during the morning feed. The despondent Paco wandered off. That same day, I found his body floating in a pond.

Leaving the suddenly orphaned five month old Lucio as the only male and eventual lord and master of his domain.

Long-legged, awkward and gawky, he was rejected by the younger hens at first, his only friend was Cleo, who treated him with a benign disinterest -- which was at least better than the outright disdain he received from the others.

Wanting to help this struggling youngster adjust, I introduced two pullets to the small tribe of four hens. 8 month old Rusty and 6 month old Dusty.

Rusty and Lucio immediately bonded and became inseparable. He treated for her all day long. The other hens gradually warmed to his attention. Cleo -- who up to that point had been the "acting rooster" took the budding cockerel under her wing and showed him how to inspect the coop at night before letting the others settle in.

Lucio at 6 months old with his first crush, Rusty.

So a happy birthday wish to Lucio, now officially a rooster. And father of four healthy cockerels and one unknown so far.

You're not the easiest to handle, Lucio, with your belligerent moods and flying side kicks and two inch razor spurs. Definitely not a "good rooster for beginners" -- which is what I admittedly am. In fact, if you were a character in a movie, this is undoubtedly your signature scene.

And more than once I have lost my temper and imagined you simmering in a pot with some lovely herbs and vegetables. But you have taught me patience, and perseverance, and actually seem to be leaving your dreadful jerk phase behind as you mature.

Here's to you Lucio the Bad Mother&$#+!r you are. I won't try to change you, and I will always be wary of you, but I nurse a small hope that someday you will mellow the heck out.

Thank you for taking such stellar care of your hens. At that you truly excel. Because if you didn't, that failing would truly be your demise. I'll deal with your posturing, your flapping and psychopathic side-eye glowering -- as long as you remain generous, protective, and patient with your adoring wives. Here's to a hopefully calmer and less temperamental year.

General Lucio the Terrible, guarding Patucha while she breakfasts.

 

[Molpet]

And I wonder how do you actually know what a cup is ? Do you have specific cups for measuring or is it just any cup and whatever happens, happens...

Cup is 8 fluid ounces.
Pint is 16 fluid ounces.
1 pound is 16 weight ounces.

Old rhyme is ....pints a pound the world around


I'm lost when it comes to metric

 

[Sally PB]

I use a scale when baking

I learned to use a scale for measuring flour when baking bread. I discovered that various flours (bread versus all purpose) are different weights for the same volume. And the gluten free flour I use is MUCH denser than either of those.

I hate that the US have these eccentric measures for cooking because everytime I find an American recipe, I have to look up the amounts of the various ingredients in grams and I haven't found a trustworthy single converter.
And I wonder how do you actually know what a cup is ? Do you have specific cups for measuring or is it just any cup and whatever happens, happens...

I have several sets of measuring cups. I think one of the cup measures is marked 240 ml, and another is marked 250. Really? Really?? For some cooking, eh, so what. For baking, it can be huge. So I use the red set when I make bread.

Some cooking is like jazz, lots of whatever, and anything goes. Some baking is like Bach, play it cleanly and precisely, or ... it isn't Bach.

 

[MrsNorthie]

The preparation methods matter a lot. According to Jo Robinson, Eating on the wild side 2013: 186-193 if you simmer dried beans until they're done and then let them soak in the cooking liquid for an additional hour, the beans reabsorb some of the nutrients from the cooking liquor.

I use the liquid that I soaked and cooked the peas and barley in as part of the liquid in my fermented grains. The full process I used:

1. Rinse the peas and barley, with cool water 5 times or for 2-3 minutes.
2. Soak the peas and barley for 12 hours then slowly heat and cook on a low heat until almost tender but not mushy.
3. Allow the peas and barley to cool in the water used for cooking, for 1-3 hours (this is dependent on work, sometimes I just can't get back to it before 3 hours..)
4. I pour the contents of the pan into the grains and add additional water as needed to cover the mixture for fermenting.

They seem to really like it. I do plan on also getting some buckwheat to add a different flavour dimension for them. I have used buckwheat flour to make my own pasta and it has a lovely strong flavour.

 

[RoyalChick]

One year ago today, this holy terror of a bird broke out of a egg bought for twenty-five cents from a neighbor, one day before his only hatchmate.

View attachment 3693751
Baby Lucio, 1 yr ago

The two chicks, Paco and Lucio (named after the great Spanish flamenco guitarista Paco de Lucia), were raised by a feral broody foster mother named Cheri (after the lead singer of the seminal 1970s all-girl rock band The Runaways). Cheri rejected all offered food and raised them on a wild foraged diet. A fearsome fighter herself, she instilled her warrior spirit in the growing cockerels.

View attachment 3693753
Paco and Lucio warred with impressive acrobatic and flying skill. They didn't do much damage to each other, but put on a Kung Fu theatre worthy show.

Cheri heavily favored Paco. Strange, because Lucio resembled her much more in color and even comb type. At four months, when Paco began to crow, she protected Paco and bullied Lucio, even intervening in their battles to grab Lucio by the neck and toss him roughly aside.

Then, early one morning in March, Cheri quite abruptly died. Literally dropped dead during the morning feed. The despondent Paco wandered off. That same day, I found his body floating in a pond.

Leaving the suddenly orphaned five month old Lucio as the only male and eventual lord and master of his domain.

Long-legged, awkward and gawky, he was rejected by the younger hens at first, his only friend was Cleo, who treated him with a benign disinterest -- which was at least better than the outright disdain he received from the others.

Wanting to help this struggling youngster adjust, I introduced two pullets to the small tribe of four hens. 8 month old Rusty and 6 month old Dusty.

Rusty and Lucio immediately bonded and became inseparable. He treated for her all day long. The other hens gradually warmed to his attention. Cleo -- who up to that point had been the "acting rooster" took the budding cockerel under her wing and showed him how to inspect the coop at night before letting the others settle in.

View attachment 3693756
Lucio at 6 months old with his first crush, Rusty.

So a happy birthday wish to Lucio, now officially a rooster. And father of four healthy cockerels and one unknown so far.

You're not the easiest to handle, Lucio, with your belligerent moods and flying side kicks and two inch razor spurs. Definitely not a "good rooster for beginners" -- which is what I admittedly am. In fact, if you were a character in a movie, this is undoubtedly your signature scene.

And more than once I have lost my temper and imagined you simmering in a pot with some lovely herbs and vegetables. But you have taught me patience, and perseverance, and actually seem to be leaving your dreadful jerk phase behind as you mature.

Here's to you Lucio the Bad Mother&$#+!r you are. I won't try to change you, and I will always be wary of you, but I nurse a small hope that someday you will mellow the heck out.

Thank you for taking such stellar care of your hens. At that you truly excel. Because if you didn't, that failing would truly be your demise. I'll deal with your posturing, your flapping and psychopathic side-eye glowering -- as long as you remain generous, protective, and patient with your adoring wives. Here's to a hopefully calmer and less temperamental year.

View attachment 3693759
General Lucio the Terrible, guarding Patucha while she breakfasts.

A wonderful story, very well told.
Happy birthday General Lucio!

 

[Sally PB]

Tax:

This is Robin. She's 28 weeks old now, and has the biggest comb and wattles of the 4 Bielefelder pullets. She also has the biggest spur buds.

She still has not laid an egg. She's been in the nestbox. She's scratched around in there, sat in there, has been making a lot of noise.

Waiting for the egg, waiting for the egg. Waiting... for... the egg!

The Doors song, "Waiting for the Sun" comes in handy.