Carnal Knowledge
I used to think it was a good idea to know in intimate detail where the flesh I eat comes from - chicken, beef, the odd bit of fish. Not that I consume a wide variety of animals - I don't eat pigs because they're too smart - it would feel like I was eating a dog or horse. Mind you I find it hard sometimes to resist a good bit of ham or bacon. Too bad they taste so good. I'm sure cannibals say the same thing about humans. Where was I? Oh yes, animal flesh. I don't eat lambs because they're fluffy, cute white baby animals. I don't eat anything with more than four legs or less than two unless it's been cooked beyond recognition. I don't eat anything that ran wild before it died. For the longest time I couldn't eat shrimp because they look mostly like bugs. and don't even get me started on lobsters. I mean, they LOOK at you from the plate! Ewww.
Back to anatomy: I used to think that if I was going to consume some creature's body, I should know exactly what I was eating. Kind of a karmic thing. That whole concept ran neck and neck with the fact that I'm a queasy carnivore. I don't like eating meat that actually looks like a body part - chicken wings are about as close as I'll get. Somehow I can rationalize away drumsticks - I mean, it's hard to imagine them being functioning legs. calves. thighs. whatever.
So I live in an endless bout of guilt over my mindless and ignorant consumption of animal flesh, and my reluctance to learn more about and somehow spiritually atone for its consumption. An undercurrent to that is the obscene methods of "factory" farming - do you know they chop the beaks and claws off chickens so that they don't "hurt themselves" while they grow plump in their twelve inch square cages? - that generates the neatly packaged and plasticized offerings at the supermarket, and the equally obscene amount of waste that is generated by meat packing plants and their ilk. I drove past a chicken "farm" once which was a row of immense concrete bunkers with no windows. It stank. I felt like throwing up. I didn't eat chicken for a long time after that. Now I've mostly forgotten how horrible it was so I rant about it but eat it anyway. sigh.
I try to buy happy meat from local organic farmers but it's expensive and it tastes funny - which means it reflects the real cost of ethical farming and it tastes like the animals are actually supposed to taste if they're allowed to live natural lives. sigh.
Back to my original tack: I boiled a chicken the other day. Seemed like the right thing to do - it was one of the bbq'd ones from Coop, and even my best attempt at prying the meat off the bones resulted in too much waste. The idea to boil it was lurking in my mind anyway - I've wanted chicken stock for Samuel's rice and potato mush, just to liven things up a bit.
Anyway, I threw in the chicken remnants, skin and all, water, and a couple of other things from the 'chicken stock' recipe in the Joy. I am not certain the skin thing was a good idea and I did end up fishing it all out again after a couple of hours. I had to interrupt my stewing for an evening and it sat overnight out on the back deck - the "big" fridge - there was no way the stock pot would fit in my fridge. The next day, I gave it another good boil and strained out the chicken - the stock smelled delicious and in the interests of frugality I decided to fish out the good pieces of flesh from the pile - and that's where the carnal knowledge comes in. After that little exercise I'm quite certain I don't really ever want to know what an original animal looks like before I eat it. I think I had to pick through every neck bone and vertebra to get to the good bits of flesh, and they just FEEL gross. ugh. little pointy bones that you can imagine used to help the chicken crane its neck this way and that, looking for juicy grubs or seeds. little rounds nubbies of cartilage that helped the bones move smoothly. little veins and muscles. little bits that used to make up a chicken... now frozen in my freezer. Ugh. I'm not sure I'll be able to make myself eat the stuff now. Anyone want some chicken stock?
Back to anatomy: I used to think that if I was going to consume some creature's body, I should know exactly what I was eating. Kind of a karmic thing. That whole concept ran neck and neck with the fact that I'm a queasy carnivore. I don't like eating meat that actually looks like a body part - chicken wings are about as close as I'll get. Somehow I can rationalize away drumsticks - I mean, it's hard to imagine them being functioning legs. calves. thighs. whatever.
So I live in an endless bout of guilt over my mindless and ignorant consumption of animal flesh, and my reluctance to learn more about and somehow spiritually atone for its consumption. An undercurrent to that is the obscene methods of "factory" farming - do you know they chop the beaks and claws off chickens so that they don't "hurt themselves" while they grow plump in their twelve inch square cages? - that generates the neatly packaged and plasticized offerings at the supermarket, and the equally obscene amount of waste that is generated by meat packing plants and their ilk. I drove past a chicken "farm" once which was a row of immense concrete bunkers with no windows. It stank. I felt like throwing up. I didn't eat chicken for a long time after that. Now I've mostly forgotten how horrible it was so I rant about it but eat it anyway. sigh.
I try to buy happy meat from local organic farmers but it's expensive and it tastes funny - which means it reflects the real cost of ethical farming and it tastes like the animals are actually supposed to taste if they're allowed to live natural lives. sigh.
Back to my original tack: I boiled a chicken the other day. Seemed like the right thing to do - it was one of the bbq'd ones from Coop, and even my best attempt at prying the meat off the bones resulted in too much waste. The idea to boil it was lurking in my mind anyway - I've wanted chicken stock for Samuel's rice and potato mush, just to liven things up a bit.
Anyway, I threw in the chicken remnants, skin and all, water, and a couple of other things from the 'chicken stock' recipe in the Joy. I am not certain the skin thing was a good idea and I did end up fishing it all out again after a couple of hours. I had to interrupt my stewing for an evening and it sat overnight out on the back deck - the "big" fridge - there was no way the stock pot would fit in my fridge. The next day, I gave it another good boil and strained out the chicken - the stock smelled delicious and in the interests of frugality I decided to fish out the good pieces of flesh from the pile - and that's where the carnal knowledge comes in. After that little exercise I'm quite certain I don't really ever want to know what an original animal looks like before I eat it. I think I had to pick through every neck bone and vertebra to get to the good bits of flesh, and they just FEEL gross. ugh. little pointy bones that you can imagine used to help the chicken crane its neck this way and that, looking for juicy grubs or seeds. little rounds nubbies of cartilage that helped the bones move smoothly. little veins and muscles. little bits that used to make up a chicken... now frozen in my freezer. Ugh. I'm not sure I'll be able to make myself eat the stuff now. Anyone want some chicken stock?
posted by zouzou at 3:38 p.m.
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