So here I am, dressed in rubber boots and apron in the turkey slaughterhouse at the Diemand Farm, founded in 1936 by Al and Elsie Diemand, now owned and operated by Annie, Faith and Peter Diemand, 3 of the 12 Diemand kids who grew up on this beautiful patch of land in Wendell, MA.

Have You Seen Me Lately? Photo: Friendofshed- Paul Stevens

Annie’s on my left, Pete on my right, me standing on a rubber mat in front of a stainless steel table face to face with a freshly plucked turkey. Turkeys as far as the eye could see - Live ones to my left, waiting to be picked up, put head first into the “cone” (don’t ask, don’t tell), plucked, and sent down the table to me and the other 14 workers on the line today. I was helping to eviscerate - nice term for “pull the guts out of” - the bird and then pull any feathers the plucking machine missed. Gizzard, liver, hearts are passed off to Pete on my right, to be cleaned up and returned with the neck to the bird for sale. Then the beautifully cleaned and plucked bird is put into an ice water bath to cool it down before packaging.

Diemand Farm turkeys. I’m the fifth from the right, the cute one.

It’s a local family operation here; everything is done on a human and humane scale. The Diemands produce chickens and eggs year round, and raise about 5,000 great big turkeys for sale in the fall. And I mean big. The largest one this year so far tipped the scales at 47 pounds dressed out. I’m not sure I’d have the guts to approach a bird that big with an axe in my hand.


Full Freezer at the Diemand Farm

Besides the local market for fresh turkeys, the Diemands produce an impressive array of turkey dishes for sale year round, using every edible part of the bird. Moroccan turkey pie anyone? How about Italian or maple  turkey sausage, turkey  casserole,  pot pies, soups, chili, brined or smoked turkey legs, meatballs, burger, gravies - if you can make it from turkey, they’ve got it. Most unusual? A request from a customer for turkey testicles - I swear I am not making this up - to be deep fried and eaten. Tastes like chicken, but now the guy keeps strutting, gobbling and pecking at others. Ok, I did make that last part up.

Home, Home on the Free Range

What about the inedible - at least for us-parts? The entrails, - aka “guts”- the feathers, feet, heads get composted with the chicken manure, some sold locally, some spread on the Diemand fields to grow the next crop of grass for next year’s turkeys. Biological nutrients in a cycle of life, coming around again and again. Waste equals food - literally.

But there are other innovative uses for poultry parts. The Diemands have had requests from heart researchers at a local medical center for freshly killed chicken breast fibers for research. Seems the fibers of a chicken’s breast simulate heart muscle under certain conditions. And at least one intrepid ‘bioneer’ has inquired about getting the turkey and chicken fat for making biofuel. I can see it now, cruising down the road in my new Toyota Turkey Trot!

Feathers themselves have been used for centuries for bedding - I used to make feather pillows out of my own geese. Great insulation and warmth. Feathers also have a long history as fletching on arrows and as quill pens. The Declaration of Independence was written and signed with feathers. The word ‘pen’ itself comes from the Latin ‘penna’, meaning feather.

Feathers are made of keratin, the same stuff your hair and nails are made from, and have been used for culturing microbes, biodegradable polymers, production of enzymes, as an adhesive and a matrix for skin grafts. And of course there are countless art and ritual object applications for feathers.

But back to the stuffing. Of ourselves. On that great big bird. First you’ve got to cook it. To roast your turkey, instead of a petroleum based roasting bag, you can reuse that big brown paper bag you got at the market when you forgot to bring your own reusable bag. Here’s the method:

Brown Bag Roast Turkey
Grease a brown paper bag and your turkey with oil or shortening. Place the turkey inside the bag, then put the bag into a roasting pan. Roast at 325°, roughly 15 minutes per pound or until a thermometer stuck in the meaty part of the thigh (the turkey’s thigh, not the relative who’s crowding your kitchen) reads 180°. Serve, enjoy and conserve the leftovers. You’ll want to reuse every part of that turkey this year - after all it gave its life to ease your hunger. Tomorrow we’ll have some ideas and recipes for the leftover holiday food

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