Farmer Writes: lamb vs hogget at the butcher’s counter

As farmers we can often find ourselves having to correct people.

Tourist: “Aw, look at the cute cows jumping on each other.”

Farmer: “That’s a cow underneath and the bull on top and they are trying to make baby cows which are called calves. They could have a male baby, which is a bull, or a female calf, which is a heifer, and she only becomes a cow when she has her first calf.”

Tourist: “Wow!”

Farmer: “You learn something new everyday, enjoy your trip.”

Local

In late spring I was in a local supermarket, one of the leading players in the Irish retail sector.

We normally buy our meat from either of two local butchers but I was in a hurry and I was delighted to see signs up at the butcher’s counter with details of the slaughter plant, date of kill, date of cutting etc.

“Is that lamb or hogget?” I asked. If I had known the ordeal I was going to face into, I would never have asked.

I thought I got a shrug of the shoulders as a reply but couldn’t be certain, so I went again, making it more simple.

“Is it new season lamb?”

I still wasn’t overly impressed with the answer. If this was a Bord Bia quality assurance test, my man was going down without a fight.

Bingo, quality assurance, I thought, farm to fork traceability, I am going to follow this one up.

At home, I sent an email to the supermarket and received a reply that my query would be forwarded and someone would be in touch.

I received another email two to three days later from the head office, asking me to explain my issue again. I was told the head meat buyer would be in touch.

Next I got a phone call and had a lovely chat with a charming lady and we sorted out the whole quality assurance scheme for everyone - no need to say thanks- but alas she then proceeded to tell me she didn’t make the rules.

Outcome

The outcome of it all was: “We switched over to new season lamb on 7 May, but there could be an odd hogget left in the system.”

A career in politics awaits the meat buyer.

I was undeterred and, on my next visit to the supermarket, the head butcher was there. He informed me that in future he would make sure staff knew what they where selling.

After all, what’s the point in us farmers making all the effort if the people we rely on to sell our product aren’t aware of what they are selling?

It was hogget.

And what’s more the hogget had a full set of swinging testicles when he was killed. I know, I ate it.

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