In her new book, Louise Gray tracks her project to spend a year eating only meat she has killed herself. Here, she describes visiting an abattoir for the first time
I wasn’t prepared for my first slaughterhouse. I did not research the abattoir in question or tell my friends and family where I was going. I wore a new blouse from Topshop with startled fawns on it. But the worst thing I did was to meet the pigs beforehand.
Gorgie City Farm seemed like such a positive place to start the project. The pigs, a cute rare breed called Gloucester Old Spot, live a happy and productive life. As I walk around the farm one morning in mid-November a family are admiring the latest litter. Squeezed between tower blocks at the tail end of the M8 on the west side of Edinburgh, it was one of the first community farms in Britain, fighting to retain a scrubby wee patch of green space since the 1970s. It was also one of the first farms to be brave enough to turn its main attraction into bacon sandwiches.
Belts are filled with clanking knives. I hear a chainsaw and a man goes past with half a sheep on his shoulder.
You can’t get to know the animals – especially not pigs. The farmer doesn’t do that, no one does that
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