I get it. I apologize for thinking that I could simply quit. I can. Some of you need this in order to have a proper morning bathroom session. Some of you need this because you truly feel more intelligent than the author. Some just like watching car wrecks. Some are sending me pics of their kid with a Boba Fett helmet carved into their hair. Wicked Cool! And another wants me to do a grand finale…something kind of like Cheers but way better than the Friends finale (we can all agree…that one sucked!)
Goat nuts. There you go. There’s a topic. How come we don’t eat “goat” fries? Calf fries are fun. I have some fond memories of the Calf Fry in Stillwater, OK circa 1990ish. Lamb fries are exquisite when ordered from the Cattleman’s in OKC or Pete’s Place in Krebs, OK. But, goat fries?
Goat nuts could be a delicacy. Maycon could knife cut a wether AFTER it sells at Friday Night Fever and BEFORE it is grand at San Antonio, Houston, pick a major. Think what those balls were worth intact and now you could eat a future grand for a grand. Pfeiffer’s don’t sell many bucks. They could leave the seeds in just a bit longer and THEN cut them (not band them). And at a later date, these cats could sell these high $ cods (hell, they have to be tasty fries). I would do something like this, but I lost my banders AND I don’t have many does left in order to raise something with nuts.
Rewind to 1990. I took an introduction to meat science class at OK State. Without a doubt, one of the most educational classes that I ever took. Dr. Dolezal and his grading methods (1/4 point for spelling, etc.) I was then talked into judging meats for the great cow college. Judge meats? I’ve done that every time I ate a steak. Not quite the same. I agreed and I did. I could place, handle specs, quality grade and write reasons. Even though, every set of reasons that I wrote started with a 48. Minus 2 for penmanship. I should have filed a complaint as I am incapable of even decent penmanship. Little did I know that they were profiling mouthy German/Irish/Catholic meat judgers with crappy penmanship. Bastards! Didn’t matter as I could never yield grade beef carcasses to a tenth of a point. Yield grade 1…sure. Yield grade 4, you bet. Yield grade 2.2…..I was always a couple of points out…..on EVERY carcass. And those points dropped added up to me having a problem. Still a great experience.
Anyhow……I started working at the OSU Meats Lab. Without a doubt one of the best experiences of my life. Such a crappy job that I truly enjoyed. The summer of 1991 brought a meats science collaboration with OK State and the Kiki De La Garza goat institute at Langston University. There were scientists from Kenya, Brazil, some Asian & Latin countries and of course, Oklahoma. We butchered a bunch of goats. Some of which were whole body ground. Yep, a big ass hamburger grinder. We cut the bones into small pieces, stripped the hide, and chunked the muscles. Blood, guts, muscles, bones, hide, EVERYTHING!! Ground it up.
It was July….so hot and so very humid. I was in the back room with the whole body grinder going. Man, that thing could chew up bone, muscle, hide, EVERYTHING! The auger took two of us to pull it out for cleaning. It was awesome. ROWR, ROWR, ROWR!! That thing was forevermore chewing those goat parts up and spitting them out. ROWR, ROWR, ROWR!! It was almost monotonous. The ROWR, ROWR, ROWR kept going. I watched the ground up stuff dump into the meat tubs. Until, THOOMPFF!! Something shot out of the grinder plate and stuck to the brick wall on the north side of the old meat lab. WTH? I walked over. Looked at the part hanging from the brick wall and then laughed. A goat nut!! RUFKM? How?
I peeled the nut from the wall and threw it back into the grinder. ROWR, ROWR, ROWR, THOOMPFF!! RUSM?!?! It shot the goat nut out again. It didn’t phase that nut. Somehow, it would compress, distort and then….THOOMPF! So, I went and got a buddy. “Hey dude. Come here. I think there is a bearing going out in this grinder. Stand here, right here and listen.”
ROWR, ROWR, ROWR, THOOMPFF!! HAAAA!! Right in the chest. Right in the chest!! Otie looked at me like WTF? I shot him in the chest with a goat nut. Otie is now Dr. Otis Rickman at the Mayo Clinic. But I shot him with a goat nut. Once he realized that he had been shot with a goat nut…..people, he was all in on this fun!
And the fun continued. We shot the meat lab manager, the research coordinator, a couple of Drs. from the ANSI offices, etc. After 17 times through the grinder, we took a knife and split the tunic on that goat nut. At that point, it ground up. Just like everything else. Damn! Cheap entertainment.
So……really. Why don’t we eat goat fries? Technically, they should be the Greatest Of All Time fries…shoudn’t they? G.O.A.T fries. Maybe, I need to open a restaurant.
Here’s you a retarded goat related story. You are welcome.