Sure, down covered work boots are not what first comes to mind when one thinks of Christmas Goose. No, I instantly think of a fragrant pine wreath on the door, a glass of spicey wine in the hand and a well set table in the middle of which rests a well cooked crispy skinned goose. However, even the most gorgeous goose dinners start with the ritual of sacrifice. According to Nectar and Ambrosia: An Encyclopedia of Food in World Mythology,

“Feasting on geese has long been a tradition in the Old World, as is clear from ancient mythology. The prevalence of goose gods in numerous cultures attests to the ritual importance of geese and to the fact that these rituals date back to antiquity…The goose feast that came to characterize holiday celebrations in later times arise as a modern-day derivative of these ancient rites and sacrifices. People in Europe, Central Asia, North America, and North Africa customarily sacrified geese, particularly at the turn of the seasons. Like other migratory fowl, geese appeared and disappeared at crucial times in the yearly cycle, so eating them customarily accompanied ceremonial events in the solar and agricultural year…After the goose was ceremonially killed, participants in the sacrifice feasted on its flesh in a ritual that they believed would ensure the regeneration of the Earth…Goose was served at the Celtic Samhain, or Halloween; the Germanic Yule, originally the first day of the new year; and Michaelmas, the ritual feast of the winter solstice.”

To this end, I recently joined a Petaluma farmer in preparing winter geese. The day started early in sharp 40° weather (go ahead laugh you Midwesterners). I met the knowledgeable crew while they were setting up a mobile station consisting of a gas fueled scalder, an automated plucker, hangers for plucking and killing cones mounted on the outside.

The most experienced, Lupe, began dispatching birds as the scalder heated.

Then the birds would go into a scalder with water heated to 150°. The goose would be rotated on a perforated platform for nearly a minute. This is much longer than the brief swish of a chicken in hot water. Apparently, the hot water needs time to penetrate the deep layers of goose down (about 1.5 inch thick).

We initially tried placing the soaked bird into an automatic plucker but the feathers were too slick with water repelling oils for the machine to grip them. So instead we hung the goose. Three people plucked it in only a few minutes. This is a startling contrast to the 15-20 minutes it takes me to pluck one duck.

Once only stubborn bits of downy feathers remained, we’d placed the goose in the plucker to finish. I helped with plucking as I appreciated the lesson I received to improve my method. I also enjoyed burying my freezing hands in the gush of hot water that would come from the feathers after scalding.

After plucking, the goose would go to the cleaning table where others would remove, clean, and separate the fat and offal for culinary use.

In the end, thirty-five geese had been prepared for the many upcoming winter feasts of the holiday season.

The farmer who was so gracious as to let me participate in this annual ritual of theirs told me it is important that the recipients of the geese see the head and feet intact. He feels it is important that the goose been seen as, not just a seasonal poultry dish, but a whole animal. One that was once alive and one they are now left to honor in its preparation.