Ivan and Chia Thrane stand with one of their three children, daughter Juniper, in their pasture at Healthy Meadows. Photo by Greys River Photography.
It is a chilly morning as my partner and I roll the topper off the F-150 and I peel myself out of the sleeping bag into an open field. Four hundred meters to my left a creek flows through a narrow channel, and up the hill lies a kindred herd of goats grazing next to a modest farmhouse. I make my way up to a small fire where a group is gathered, seemingly just as interconnected as the ruminants to their right. I am welcomed in and handed hot coffee and a breakfast burrito full of farm-fresh eggs and vegetables.
The group of us, consisting of neighbors, family, chefs, and farmers, huddles around to hear more about the anticipated plan for the weekend. We are all here in Red Lodge for a Holistic Goat Butchering Workshop put on by the owners of Healthy Meadows, Ivan and Chia Thrane, in partnership with chef Eduardo Garcia.
Ivan began stewarding this land after his grandmother gifted him her portion of the family’s ranch soon after college. Ivan began building a goat herd, looking for a way to both care for the land and make a living as a rancher.
Today, raising the herd is a full-family affair with Chia and their three children—Yarrow, Axel, and Juniper—playing pivotal roles in the care and maintenance of the goats. The herd is primarily used for invasive weed management on land throughout the Red Lodge area while simultaneously assisting with ecosystem services such as chemical-free fertilization and wildfire mitigation. The Thranes also provide educational opportunities for visitors including workshops and plant walks. (To learn more about Healthy Meadows, read “Goat Grazing: Creating Resilient Landscapes” in the Summer 2022 edition of Edible Bozeman, available at ediblebozeman.com.)
As the group finishes breakfast, we introduce ourselves. Ivan explains that throughout the course of the weekend we will meet the herd, butcher three animals, process and cook the meat, and gather for an open community barbecue to share the offerings.
We begin by heading to the pasture closest to the house to learn about ruminant characteristics and the day-to-day experience of the Thranes’ herd. We discuss how horns are part of a goat’s respiratory and cooling system and how herd animals are generally stressed if isolated.
There is a palpable nervousness among the group as we begin discussing the discomfort that often surrounds death. We pick out which animals we will butcher. Ivan shares that today, “most of us will get blood on our hands. That can be both a gruesome and celebratory affair.”
As we prepare for the slaughter, Ivan walks the first goat out between his legs, holding the animal gently by his horns. Having studied butchery methods from around the world, Ivan believes the most humane way to kill an animal is with an exact cut to two arteries in the neck. He leaves the trachea intact, fully embodying his philosophy that “our first and last gift is our breath.” As Ivan raises his knife, he softly covers the goat’s eyes. The animal passes quickly as a participant squats down with a metal bowl below the animal’s neck, whisking diligently so that the blood does not coagulate. The bowl is passed to Chia who takes it inside to begin making a version of sanguinaccio dolce, a chocolate blood pudding.
The animal is hung by his gambrel from a nearby tree, and Ivan demonstrates the most hygienic order and techniques for disemboweling the goat. He takes care to make precise cuts as he removes the liver, kidneys, and heart, setting them aside for later incorporation into the meal. We ball our hands into tight fits and manually remove the hide from the body for later tanning. Ivan closely watches over the group and provides boisterous encouragement and direction as the participants butcher and process an additional goat and one sheep.
As the animals are broken down, we take them to a nearby table where Garcia demonstrates how to further process the meat. We work collectively removing horns from the head, stripping away silver skin, deboning, and marinating. As the sun begins to fade, all meat is placed in cold storage for the night. Exhausted from the physical and emotional energy involved in butchery, we all head to bed.
On Saturday, community members join in, helping the crew dig a barbecue pit and building an open fire for roasting. The Fanuzzi family places basalt they have procured from their family quarry into the pit to help retain heat and properly cook the meat. A water wheel rotisserie, custom welded by Ivan and his blacksmithing neighbor Russel, is assembled and placed by the river above a second fire. The animals will be made into a delicious array of al pastor, rotisserie, and asado. Garcia welcomes anyone interested in the cooking process to participate, finding tasks for both curious children and inquisitive adults.
As Garcia keeps a watchful eye over the spit and tends the fire, he explains to those close by the derivation of what is now known as a classic American barbecue. The word barbecue originated among the Taínos, Indigenous people who inhabited the Caribbean islands prior to their targeted eradication by Spanish conquistadors during the 15th century.
The Taíno people used the word barabicu to describe their practice of cooking meat in wooden frames over an open fire. Settlers began describing the cooking method as a barbacoa, which eventually evolved into the word barbecue. Animals such as hutia (squirrel-looking rodents), fish, birds, iguanas, and snakes were cooked in this way by the Taíno. Throughout history, Indigenous communities have practiced a variety of methods for cooking meat over fire influenced by their geography and the wild foods available, a true celebration of their connection to place. Much of the family tradition, patriotism, and community many Americans have built around barbecuing is owed to the methodology and expertise brought here by immigrants.
As the food preparation commences, others participate in a variety of activities set up around the farm. Folks shoot bows while others hammer away inside a blacksmithing tent. Later in the afternoon, people gather for a goat roping competition as bystanders hoot and holler. As the sun begins to dip, The Last Revel, a popular Montana folk band, strums and sings to a field full of swaying listeners.
On Sunday morning, families gather for a potluck celebration, digging into the bounty that has been carefully prepared over the last two days. People consume the meal with reverence as they see the remainder of the herd happily grazing in the distance.
As I start my drive back to Bozeman, I reflect on the deep sadness and uncertainty I associate with much of the loss I have experienced in my life: death of family, the ending of relationships, jobs I have loved and left. In ways, the act of butchery has the power to help reframe death, allowing for a space to acknowledge and hold difficult feelings while concurrently providing an opportunity to come together with others, reflect, and celebrate a life well lived.
The Thranes plan to host similar events in the spring or summer of 2026. To learn more about future workshops, visit the Healthy Meadows website at creatinghealthymeadows.com.
