Arrival of the Turkeys

Last week James and I set off on a mission: we were to drive across the border to Wonnacott organic farm in Devon and collect some new inhabitants for Newhouse Farm - a dozen young turkeys. Turkeys are one type of feathered creature that has been absent since my arrival at Newhouse Farm in February. James told me that each year they buy a dozen young turkeys in the middle of the summer to fatten up for Christmas dinner. July may seem like it's a little early to be thinking about Christmas, but the turkeys need this time in order to grow to an edible size. Not all of the turkeys that are raised at the farm end up on the kitchen table (we may have healthy appetites but we can't quite stretch to gobbling up a dozen roast turkeys!) Instead the remainder are given to family and friends as Christmas presents. An organic free range turkey can cost between £80 to £90, so it makes sense to raise them here at the farm.

As we drove towards Devon to collect the turkeys I received a text message from one of my friends in London. She was just about to return to work for the first time after being on maternity leave for several months, and was feeling a bit gloomy about it. I texted back to tell her about my turkey mission, and smiled as I realised just how strange it sounded. Only a few months ago when I still lived in London I'd have considered collecting turkeys a very unusual way to spend a morning, but now that I'd moved to Cornwall it was just another part of my day to day routine. However it occurred to me that I wasn't quite sure what to expect the turkeys to look like. I'd seen plenty of plucked turkeys in the freezer section of my local supermarket, but I couldn't recollect ever having seen a fully feathered live turkey before.

Wonnacott Farm was in a beautiful area of Devon, which James and I got to know quite well as we took lots of wrong turns as we tried to find it. After several failed excursions up winding lanes, and a few flustered phonecalls, we eventually found the farm where we were greeted enthusiastically by the female farmer Rosie. In the few months that I've lived in Cornwall I've discovered that visiting a farm in order to buy something isn't at all like buying something in a shop in London. On a farm you don't just dash in and dash out: that would be considered the height of rudeness. Instead you spend plenty of time chatting and comparing stories with the farmer, and are often given a tour of the farm to admire the animals that are being raised.

Wonnacott Farm was no different, and Rosie gave us a tour of all the turkeys they kept there. First stop was a very neat and tidy barn where all the young turkeys were running around making delicate cheeping noises. We'd been lucky to be able to buy any turkeys from Rosie as we'd left it a bit late in the season, but fortunately Rosie had incubated an extra batch of eggs so she had just enough young turkeys left to sell us a dozen. The turkeys were small, leggy and covered in tufts of black feathers, which made them look remarkably similar to the black Maran chicks that we'd been raising at the farm. They were a rare breed of turkey called Norfolk Black, which apparently produces a much more flavoursome meat than the usual commercial hybrid varieties, and takes a longer amount of time to grow. These young turkeys hadn't been allowed outside yet, so to make sure they had enough green stuff in their diets Rosie had scattered some docks and nettles across the floor which the turkeys were pecking at greedily.

Next Rosie walked us up to a large field where her breeding stock of adult turkeys were kept, which she called over to us so we could have a closer look. These were Norfolk Blacks in their full glory, and what magnificent and bizarre creatures they were. Their glossy plumage was a rich black, which offset the bright red colour of their heads. The female turkeys had saddles strapped to their backs, which Rosie explained was to protect them from any overly zealous males when they were mating. Apparently turkeys have very sharp talons which can hurt the female turkeys if the stags get too amorous, hence why the females wear saddles all throughout the mating season. The males had strange long dangley bits of flesh that drooped down around their beaks and wobbled whenever they moved. They proudly displayed their tail feathers in an outstretched fan shape, which they moved from side to side like a flamenco dancer, blatantly showing off to the females. All of a sudden the males let rip a loud "Gobblegobblegobblegobble" in perfect unison, with their necks thrust out and their droopy bits of skin flapping. Rosie explained that the male turkeys always gobbled at exactly the same time, no matter how many of them in the flock there were. It was a strange sight to witness, and I couldn't help but giggle.

Now the tour was complete Rosie selected 12 of the younger turkeys for us to take away, and helped James and I put them into a travelling cage we'd brought with us. Some of the turkeys were larger than others, indicating whether they were stags or hens (females), so Rosie made sure that we had a mix of both. James didn't escape this without incident, and ended up with a fresh turkey dropping splattered on his t-shirt. After lifting the turkey cage into the back of the car and saying our goodbyes to Rosie we set off on our return journey to Newhouse Farm, the aroma of turkey poop growing ever stronger as the miles ticked by. The turkeys seemed to be quite unphased by the journey, as they bobbed up and down and swayed from side to side as the car drove along the country lanes in the direction of Cornwall.

Back at Newhouse Farm we introduced the young turkeys to their new home. Preparations had already been made for the new inhabitants: the large turkey shed had been cleaned out and littered with fresh sawdust, and an expansive grassy section outside had been scythed around the perimeter where we had erected an electric poultry fence. Something I didn't realise is that turkeys are actually woodland birds, and very inquisitive, so they require plenty of ground in which to forage and explore. As it was a rainy day it was unsuitable weather for the turkeys to be let outside to explore their run, so we lifted them out their cage and placed them directly into their house, where they calmly examined their new surroundings.

Since then the weather has still been fairly rotten so we've kept the turkeys inside their shed, only allowing them outside for a brief exploration before shooing them back in. The shed has a window on one side and several perches that stretch from one wall to another. Often when I've been to check on the turkeys to make sure they're settling in alright I've found that they've managed to hop onto the perches and have congregated around the window to examine the world outside. Hopefully soon the weather will improve so we can let them explore their new domain to their hearts content. Christmas is still a long way off, and I've got a feeling that over the coming months the turkeys are going to prove very entertaining. Dick has told me that in previous years the turkeys have ended up perching on the aqueduct and on the roof of the barns, so I'm looking forward to seeing what this cheeky dozen will get up to!

If you fancy seeing what our turkeys will look like when they're fully grown, or fancy buying your own organic Christmas turkey, have a look at Rosie's website for Wonnacott Farm.