Ha HA! Nice try, overlords!
We have a roast chicken every Sunday, and every Monday I spend a few hours boiling the carcass and plucking the meat off of it.
I hate this process so much. All those slippery bones and muscles and sinews. I know how they all fit together to make a chicken. It haunts me. And I get it on my hands.
I’m funny about touching food with my hands.
But I get at least three splendid chicken-based meals out of it, so I feel totally compelled.
Anyway, I was doing this unpleasant job earlier and it made me wonder (not for the first time) if I would be able to raise meat chickens. I sincerely believe they’re going to push this anti-meat thing until we all eat less meat whether we like it or not because we can’t afford it.
We have neighbors with sheep and neighbors with cows, so we can avoid those meat taxes if they don’t impose them on the farmer hisself.
We don’t have a good place for a pig, but I’d consider it. I got one as an adorable pet when I was a teenager and by the time he was old enough for the butcher, I was ready to hustle him onto the van with my own two hands.
He was an escape artist and whenever I managed to trace him down, he bit me. Hard. Get in the van, piggie.
But chicken. I really like eating chicken. But I really like chickens.
I’m going to have to be pretty hungry before I go there. I’m soft like that.
November 22, 2021 — 7:32 pm
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