For the last couple days, she has been processing it. That means she is cutting all the meat up for roasts, steaks and sausages. I guess you know I sit right there at the kitchen counter waiting for her to drop something. The rule is if it lands on the floor, it's mine. Unless of course it's something that I'm not supposed to have -- like chocolate. Too bad I can't have chocolate. That is the ultimate. Yep, I got into some a few years ago. It was dark chocolate and nothing bad happened, so I don't know why I can't have it. Oh well.
|Venison Tripe - getting ready to finish washing and grinding|
She already made the tripe. I have to remind her to take a bucket of that out of the fridge. Dad really grossed out when he saw that. She took the deer stomach and washed all the grass out of it - ZOMG, those deer eat a whole lot of grass! Then she cut it up in small pieces and put it in the food processor to grind it up. I won't eat it whole. It's like eating rubber or something, and that is just nasty. But when it's all ground up, it's the bomb! I don't get nearly enough tripe.
Oh, and she save the liver and heart for me, too. Then she cut up the lungs and dried them up in the dehydrator. Those are the Best. Treats. Ever.