"I dig the way you do business, Jackie."

Pre-goat

Post Goat

The backyard's going to get one last makeover before the final roast. I'll post more pictures after I've got it looking extra sharp. For now, clicking the top picture should refresh some memories of the jungle that used to be the yard.

"And yes, we'll be near the In-&-Out Burger."

Alright, glad that's out of the way. On to the more enjoyable activity of cooking and eating our landscaping crew.

There's a lot of meat - much more than my immediate family could fit in their freezers. So we're dusting off the original Couchon de Lait roaster and launching a spur of the moment goat roast for tomorrow night. Since those goats hit the ice on Saturday, I've been digging for some advice on how to best cook these guys. I hit the jackpot at about 6:30 this evening.

Google came up with the link to Brady, TX's annual Goat BBQ Cook Off. Took me right to the city's governmental webpage. At the bottom is a link to their Facebook page. (Check out the most recent post.) From there, I found a lone telephone number, apparently Brady, TX's phone. Elaine picked up. After hearing my story, she gave me the names and numbers of two of the competition's most well-known local cooks. Cha ching. (Well, I got Alton's number. She couldn't find Charlie's, so she gave me his mom's number. Never could get a hold of her, though.)

Alton, it turns out, is like the Gandalf of goat roasting. A cabrito Olympian. He's competed in each and every cook off in the event's 36 year history. 175 teams of serious goat cooks, and Alton's hoisted the 1st place trophy on several occasions, including last year's "Super Bowl," a separate event only for previous winners. On Cook Off weekend, next to his RV setup is prime real estate. He and his teammates, the "Three B Company" collectively, feed the neighbors all through the night - 5 goats, 60 lb pork ribs, brisket, sausage, 8 lbs of beans. I thought our two pigs was a big deal. "Ha. Laughable, man!" These guys are Hall of Famers.

These people are crazy about roasting goats.

And he was generous with his advice, too! Family recipes, blue ribbon winners, traditional methods, mesquite versus oak firewood. I was schooled on bbq goat for a solid 20 minutes, scribbling away the whole time. After hearing about and approving our exiting pig roaster situation, he recommended the following:

1. Flatten the goat's bulk by splitting in half or quartering.
2. Add a dry rub seasoning, salt, pepper, and garlic. Be generous with the salt.
3. Add a wet mustard rub.
4. Prepare a baste with following: cider vinegar, mustard, butter, Worchestershire sauce, and plenty of salt.
5. Roast for an hour over 275 degree heat, adding baste. Then flip.
6. Roast for another hour, adding baste.
7. Wrap meat in foil. Before sealing, generously baste.
8. Let it do its thing for another 2 - 3 hours.
9. "Done when it pulls apart and you can't stop eating it."

I'll be sure to take pictures before, during, and after this whole fiesta. Once everyone present has eaten their fill, the rest will be bagged up and sent home with friends to recreate the event with a microwave.

"Donny was a good bowler..."

I woke up Saturday morning to a voicemail from Miss Charlie with the name and number of her neighbor, the expert goat killer that would show me the ropes. Rodney picked up the phone and told me to get on out there to get started. Within a half hour, I had a big cooler from the Dougie House loaded up and I headed out.

Got to the farm at the same time Rodney pulled up in his truck. Big white pickup with an ATV in the bed. He backed it right up to on an open space by the barn. After introductions, he showed me his homemade ATV hitch accessory: a 2-piece pulley system to hoist antelopes up off the ground in Wyoming, where there aren't any trees. Yeah, antelope. Wyoming. But he's hunted, killed, and butchered anything that moves short of humans - farm and game animals alike. Bear, moose, elk, deer, pigs, cows, goats, turkey. You name it, he's killed and eaten it. So if I was ever going to learn from somebody, it would be this guy, the tip top of the food chain.

And learn something, I did. Rodney was very patient and instructive, not to mention a big fan of experiential learning. I drove off the property having done a lot more than I had anticipated upon first arriving. Definitely an afternoon I won't soon forget. But what an experience. And a valuable skill to be familiar with.

I've thought a lot about which details to share publicly and which to withhold. There are parts of the story that probably wouldn't be appropriate in most circles, so I'll let you ask me about them in person.

I will say, however, that the goats died a very quick, clean death. Instantaneous. Rodney's preferred method is shooting the goats with a .22 rifle (in the head), then hanging and skinning much like you would a deer. If you're interested - and it sounds like several people are - here are a couple of pictures from the afternoon. Be aware there are, in fact, dead goats in the pictures. Any particularly bloody or disturbing pictures were not included, so don't be too hesitant to click. Looks just like your grocery store meat would. The captions are somewhat instructional, you know, just in case 2012 rolls around and you've gotta feed some mouths.

In the end, all three carcasses fit inside one jumbo cooler, where they've been since. Rodney recommended keeping the meat on ice and water for a few days, changing it every so often to flush the blood out of the meat. Consider it an expedited, home scale equivalent of the 2-week hanging, or "aging," of your everyday cut of beef. Now, after 4 or 5 days, nearly all the blood has been drawn out, and we've got some seriously tasty looking meat on our hands....

Getcha Some Goat Pics

Stonewall: half goat, half Minotaur.

Abby: Head of Security.

Cutest of all time.

I got plenty of pictures of the farm this weekend. There are 14 baby goats out there right now. Most entertaining 2 pounds of fur I've ever encountered. Click here, Grooveshark your favorite Lion King song, and put the "slideshow" function to work. Just try to be in a bad mood.

"Dude, tomorrow's already the tenth..."

Here's the sparknotes recap of the past few weeks:

• Guerrilla Goat Herding: That was the last time you heard from me. On a Tuesday. No real developments since. Word's spreading onto the 6th floor about some "goat kid" two floors below. Well, probably more like "goat kid with poison ivy."
• Poison Ivy: Apparently, the goats got into some poison ivy while on the 5 Acre Woods property. After picking them up, carrying them, etc., I must have got the oils all over my hands. Then I got in the Jeep, played with my weak excuse for facial hair, and proceeded to get the evil ivy oil all over my mug. Went to bed Wednesday an average homo sapiens; woke up on Thursday morning Quasimodo. It was bad. Eyes swollen shut. Neck, ears, cheeks, lips. Everything irritated and huge. Stumbled to the health center and freaked out the nurses. They gave me shots and pills, creams and sprays, shook a medicine bag around my head and chanted counter curses. It still sucked for a solid 72 hours. But I'm healed now. And you better believe I won't ever make that mistake again. Now you know too.
• Thanksgiving Break: That Friday, Harvey Dent face and all, I took the goats out to Miss Charlie's farm to hang out with the old herd so we could all enjoy our turkeys back home. They've been out at the farm since. All according to plan.

Not to toot my own horn, but when dropping off the goats, my three were noticeably fatter than any other goats on the farm. Like, Biggest Loser fatter. I was proud.

"What are you, a park ranger now?"

Guerrilla Goat Herding

The idea came up during a "Privet Pull" at a local urban forest, 5 Acre Woods. It was an extra credit opportunity, so I expected to get in, get out, and earn a couple gimme points on my next Planning test. When I mentioned to the man in charge and hometown friend, Coach Counter, that his overgrown lot could use the help of my goats, he jumped all over the idea. 48 hours later, I was getting permission to miss Tuesday's classes so I could herd my goats.

Everything went relatively smoothly. The goats had two temporary paddocks, with the first pictured above. I spent from 9:30 to 1:30 with the goats at the first paddock, watching them obliterate every privet plant within reach. The second paddock was monitored by Coach Counter and several of his classmates, also landscape architecture majors, while I ran back to campus to take a Plant ID quiz. The goats left the property right at 5:00 PM. After roughly 7.5 hours of non stop eating, our three guys were noticeably stuffed.

Picture worthy?

The transportation went pretty well. With two pairs of hands, it'd be a cinch. Another Dougie Shoutout to Hans for loaning us Millie's jumbo dog crate. Once I got all three inside, they rode comfortably both to and from the site. (I spotted one guy in a pickup truck leaning over his dash with a camera taking a picture of the above scene. I wonder if he was an Achiever...)

There were a few complication with the fencing. This black plastic stuff just won't cut it. It's too brittle and the goats can lean on it way too easily. Some taller, orange construction fencing might do the trick, especially in terms of mobility. And then electrical fencing is always an option if you really wanted to be temporary. If you had the time and resources, the best bet would be to string up hog wire around the entire area and let the goats do their thing. It wouldn't take long for a small herd of goats to make an obvious dent in a privet infested lot like 5 Acre Woods.

Overall, Coach Counter and his classmates seemed to enjoy the goats' help. There were plenty of pictures taken and even a video or two, so I'll be sure to share when I get a hold of them. Unfortunately, keeping goats within Athens city limits isn't at all legal, so we can't go too big with using goats on the property, but it's definitely something to consider on down the road.

"Another caucasion, Gary."

Acorns v. Noble Goat

We had our first taste test yesterday. "Slam" Duncan and Dora donated enough Water Oak acorns to feed the goats for a week. They hauled an entire wine box full of the morsels off their roof, just to share with our goats. That's a lot of acorns to be carrying up and down a ladder, especially for an older couple like our neighbors. Big time Dougie Shoutout.

I didn't think the goats would find something they like more than their daily pan full of Noble Goat, but it wasn't even close. Like watching a family of obese rednecks devour a Shoney's buffet line. They were chowing down.

The big oak is located almost on the property line between us and Dunc' and Dora's. I've noticed the goats hanging out under it's canopy munching on fallen acorns before. Unfortunately, that's the only mast producing tree on the property. Tulip poplars, sweet gums, black gums, mulberries, and maples are the usuals in the backyard. They'll eat the freshly fallen leaves, but I'm sure the goats would rather have a few more oaks back there, constantly dropping little, delicious nuggets all around them.

I wonder how they feel about pecans...