Abba-ttoir

Here’s a clue to what today’s podcast is about… yes that’s right you’ve guessed it an abattoir! *pause* What do you mean you didn’t like that joke?

In my work I occasionally have to visit an abattoir, when I took this job, I was really unsure about about having to do so often to go to there. Before we go this isn’t pro or anti beef, this is where beef, leather and pet food come from. I feel people need to know this, we are so used to pre-packaging, it’s so bad I notice Tesco are selling frozen omelettes. Though in this case, I’d like to think it’s for people who aren’t capable make an omelette on their own and not some cynical ploy for making extra cash.

It’s important to not stress the cattle. It causes the meat to become tough and lose flavour. This means as short a journey as possible to the abattoir to ensure the minimal amount of stress. The next part is from memory, so I may get a couple of steps the wrong way round.

A cow goes in to what is known as the kill box, is rendered brain dead by a bolt between the eyes, it’s then hung up by the back legs, throat slit and the blood is drained. Once this process is complete the numerous stages of dismantling the carcass begins. Horns and hooves are removed, the heads chopped off and intestines and other organs are taken out, here the line split into two, one processing the carcass the other sorting out the organs. The hides are removed and then the tail is taken out. There are platforms that move up and down, one allows staff to cut the carcass in half, with what resembles a giant hacksaw. On another platform there is excess fat some of the fat is cut off by hand. In a distance of about 30 metres, it goes from being a recognisable animal to two large, hanging pieces of meat. In the kill hall there is the is the odd spurt of blood up the side of the white plastic walls, like some cheesy horror film.

Wandering around in white overalls, through the kill hall or walking through chills of half carcasses, it’s impossible not to come out with them having stained by something red. Elsewhere there’s more dismantling, flanks, bones and offal appear. Tripe disturbs me, the hexagonal looking structure of it, reminds me of a plant or a leaf, but it’s not. It’s white, and looks like a load of mis-shapen fancy bath mats hanging up to dry.

Outside is where the particularly bad smells are, especially on a warm day. Here is where the other bits come out from the kill line, the literal shit, fat and other material. A lot of this is classed as Category 3; not suitable for human consumption. Here is where your pets come in, Category 3 material can be be used in cat and dog food. Nothing is wasted, even the bones and blood find a use, they can sold off to be made into fertiliser.

There you have it, a trip round an abattoir, I’m always disappointed when I visit because I’ve still not seen any 70s popstars in their brightly coloured jumpsuits there.

As the legendary Keith Top Of The Pops & His Minor UK Indie Celebrity All-Start Backing Band once sang… Morrissey Will Never Forgive Me.

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