I am not very often serious but today is an exception because,
ladies, gentlemen and Russian window dressers,
I have a confession to make.
I have, like most of the contents of my fridge, been on the turn for some
time and have finally decided to take the plunge and come out with it.
Sorry to disappoint Sandy dear but I haven't decided to bat for the
other side as I tried that once in my youth and it made my right arm
shake for days. Nor am I thinking of taking the veil.
No, what I am about to give a try is becoming vegetarian (give or take
the odd fish or two) but without the optional sandals,
joss sticks and cheese cloth blouse for the moment.
The Tesco's Three Bird Festive Roast was the starting point and
catalyst for my actions.
It set me thinking why anyone in their right mind would want to stuff a duck
inside a chicken inside a turkey. Why stop there? Why not a budgie inside
a cat inside the neighbour's golden retriever or for grander feasts perhaps
a badger inside a pelican inside your child's favourite pony?
I spent weeks channel hoppng in search of answers and all I could find were
fresh faced farmers salivating as they eyed up their livestock for the mass seasonal
celebrity chefs eulogising about picking the marrow from some poor dead
creature's bones in order to get every ounce of value from its carcas,
celebrities joking whilst gagging on a kangaroo penis which, incidentally,
was advertised as "japes in the jungle", or elderly diners sinking their
assorted dentures into very bloody slices of Rudolph whilst proclaiming
"you could cut it with a spoon - it's so tender."
ENOUGH1 Why oh why is it acceptable to feast on the often drug riddled and
chemically enhanced flesh of some unknown creature.
I wish I could say that I'm finding menu planning as easy as making the decision
to become a vegetarian but at least now when I say that I am an animal
lover I can put my hand on my heart and know it to be true. And,
incidentally, should you need any further encouragement I also feel better,
my house keeping bills are considerably lower and my impression
of a 650cc Norton is coming on a treat.
More beans anyone or perhaps a florette of wild broccoli that has been
humanely culled and poached in a sauce made from it's own juices.
Bags I the pansy.