Last weekend we drove down to Lockeford to the butcher there to buy sausages, and the 17 year old took these pictures. We were lucky to roll up just as they were taking a delivery of fresh bacon. I like the little girl in purple watching the bacon arriving at the back door.
Doing it this way makes for a very short "farm to skillet" time.
If you are in central California, Lockeford Meats is the best place for good breakfast food, and they sell a prime ham hock as well.
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This place has been #1 on my Garmin GPS favorites for years!! The chorizo is fresh and home made and the dakota's are great for the grill and a brew. I see a trip coming in the next few days.
ReplyDeleteI've seen you there dude!
DeleteI never ask what's in the sausage...
ReplyDeleteNever ask how sausages or laws are made.
ReplyDeleteI vividly remember hog killing time as a child. I was fascinated watching them hung upon a line. Also, my good, elderly friend Mr. Bowen who would tie his chickens on a clothesline by their feet and then slice each neck open with his trusty Barlow knife, the same one he used to cut his Old Mule chewing tobacco.:)
ReplyDeleteMr. Bowen
http://www.namsouth.com/viewtopic.php?t=2211&highlight=bowen
My neighbor across the road, Mr. Bowen, http://s1.postimage.org/1Olkzi-6cf96198e17603593f3fa29a1e8a213b.jpg was in his seventies when he found me crying at his fence behind his house after the older boys had left me in their dust, and he became my best friend until he died. I don't remember how old I was, but probably about six. I loved going to visit him, where he would always give me my choice of a piece of candy, and then regale me with stories of the Confederacy, as he spit into his spittoon. He would tie chickens on his clothes line by their legs, and then go down the row slitting their necks with his handy Barlow knife, as he chawed' on a plug of Brown Mule, which was my Christmas present to him each year. One year my mother asked if I didn't want to get him something different, and I was dumbfounded, as I told her, but that's what he likes! Every time my mother would bake loaves of bread, I would take one to him steaming hot. There isn't much better than this smothered in butter. He taught me how to make my first slingshot among many, many other things. I really miss him.
Every boy deserves a friend like Mr. Bowen. Great comment, Brock.
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