300 Chickens, One Mistake, and a Whole Lot of Regret
We spent months raising 300 chickens — hauling feed, moving pens, filling water in 95° heat — only to have the processor ignore our instructions and process them wrong.
We took 300 pasture-raised chickens to the processor and asked for half to come back whole and half parted. What we got instead? Every single bird parted. No whole chickens at all.
Now, that might sound like a small thing. But for our customers, it’s not. Many prefer whole birds because they’re more affordable, more flexible to cook with, and you get all the parts — nothing extra to buy.
We also had bundles planned that are now off the table because we don’t have the full complement of cuts (whole birds).
I also now have more soup chicken back packs than I know what to do with.
Worse, the parted birds cost more per bird to process. So not only do we have a messed-up inventory, we have a higher bill too.
The kicker? There’s no going back. In our state, there’s nowhere else to go. If this were beef or pork, obviously we'd just switch to another processor because there's many.
We have exactly one USDA-certified chicken processor in our state and that’s it. We’ve looked. If we wanted other options, we’d be driving full days out of state, and that’s just not sustainable.
Every year, I tell myself maybe we should go back to processing on-farm. And we might. We’ve done it before. But the truth is, it’s a ton of work.
1-2 days of setup, then the processing day (or two) itself, additional cost if you’re bringing in help, then once everything is done, there is the breaking down and cleaning of equipment.
Oh yeah, also insurance headaches. Most farm policies won’t cover on-farm processing (i.e. they won't cover the chicken we're selling) unless it’s state or USDA inspected, which small-farm setups usually aren’t.
So now we’re left asking: Is this enterprise even worth it anymore? This isn't the first (or second or third) time we've had problems with this particular processor and it's now to the point where we have to ask ourselves if this is a sustainable enterprise, based on the choice of processors (or lack thereof) available to us.
It's such a crucial step, and if that part of the puzzle is missing, then maybe we have to be honest and admit that, for our context, this enterprise isn't going to work.
There’s a term I heard once: “diworseification.” It’s when you add too many things thinking you’re being strategic… but really, you’re just adding stress, costs, and complications.
We’re not making any decisions today. But we’re looking hard at the numbers. Feed, labor, gas, processing, delivery, insurance — all the things that seem like little add-ons until they sneak up and kill your margins.
Lesson for You:
If you're running or dreaming about your own farm business, I’ll say this — don’t just look at revenue. Look at reality.
Tally every cost and evaluate your context. The drive to the processor. The reputation of the processor. The extra labor. The admin work. The risks if someone gets it wrong.
Does your context include variables that are out of your control, that could make or break your enterprise (tip: always factor a margin of mortality for any enterprise you do. We factor in 5% loss for our birds)?
And most of all — be honest about whether the enterprise is truly profitable or just sounds good on paper. It’s tempting to offer everything but sometimes, that means not being great at anything.
There is only so much time in the day, and when you're running 4-7 enterprises, you have to look at your numbers and context, and be honest about what’s working and what isn’t.
Closing Thought:
Yeah, there’s a little venting here — I won’t pretend otherwise. Not every mistake comes with a lesson. But this one? It’s got me thinking.
It’s a reminder to pause once in a while and ask the hard questions:
Is this enterprise actually helping us grow? Or is it just adding stress, cost, and complexity, or worse, holding back growth (what else could you do with 100 extra hours)?
Have you had a moment like that on your farm — where something sounded like a great idea but turned into more trouble than it was worth? Does this have you rethinking any of your own enterprises?
I want small farms to succeed. And success doesn’t mean doing everything under the sun just to keep every customer happy. It means doing something really well knowing the resources are available for you to succeed — and building a business that draws people in because you’ve built it right.
Keep that in mind as you grow. Your sanity and your bottom line will thank you.
Until next time,
Jason
