It's Easter, so naturally, one starts to notice all the cute, fuzzy spring animals -- bunnies, lambs, chicks, etc. In the meat aisle of the grocery store, that is. No, the headline of this posting is not a typo. In the butcher, in the grocery store, and on the menus, (and if truth be known, not just now but all year round) you will find a farm's worth of no-longer-frolicking rabbit, young chicken, lamb, duck, and veal.
After living in Japan, the Philippines, and other parts of Asia, I have long ago given up the idea that some meat, or some part, is morally superior, once you take out endangered/environmental considerations. Why is it OK to eat fish, but not fish eyeballs (which my Japanese and Chinese friends consider a delicacy)? Why are eggs and chickens not just acceptable but "normal," yet the idea of Filipino balut -- a half-developed chicken embryo inside the egg -- is (how shall I say this diplomatically...) utterly vile?
Remember, many of us used to consider octopus and squid gross until we discovered sushi and fried calamari. I admit that there is no rhyme or reason to my meat philosophy: I despise liver and chopped liver (insert shudder of disgust) but adore pâté: goose liver, pork liver, duck liver, I've tried and liked 'em all.
I cannot say I believe that this is the day that Jesus rose up from the dead. But I can say with complete certainty that if I were to serve one of those cute animals for dinner, this would be the day that Gigi would rise up from the table to go fetch herself some yogurt. She has unilaterally decided not to eat even any form of beef, hamburgers included. She's near vegetarian, with a healthy love for certain pork products: bacon, ham, and pork loin, as well as chicken sausages. (And when I was a vegetarian, I used to cheat with occasional chicken curries and an annual trip for barbeque ribs, so I guess strict dogmaticism does not run in our family...). Pippa, on the other hand, we call "Henry VIII" because not only does she love meat, she particularly likes to hold a bone and start gnawing.
Since I'm the one that does the grocery shopping, however, most of our family's meat intake is chicken, turkey, fish, and occasionally pork, which makes us decidedly very un-French. I would kill for ground turkey so I could make meatloaf and chili the way I do in California (though, hypocritically, I wouldn't actually kill a turkey for the ground turkey....). This aversion to many forms of meat makes it difficult for me to find something I'm excited about on most French brasserie menus. And it may be what drives Anthony to order the most bizarre form of meat available whenever he gets the chance ("Blood sausage?" He's there...), though it could also be because he has a perverse sense of humor that way.
And so, on this day when some believe Jesus rose from the dead to absolve us of our sins, and when they celebrate, logically, with a big ham or lamb in the middle of the table, and six-foot pastel bunnies delivering chocolate eggs and jelly beans, we will be celebrating with omelettes and hunting for tie-dyed Easter eggs in the park. But no baluts. Happy Easter and Happy Eating!
After living in Japan, the Philippines, and other parts of Asia, I have long ago given up the idea that some meat, or some part, is morally superior, once you take out endangered/environmental considerations. Why is it OK to eat fish, but not fish eyeballs (which my Japanese and Chinese friends consider a delicacy)? Why are eggs and chickens not just acceptable but "normal," yet the idea of Filipino balut -- a half-developed chicken embryo inside the egg -- is (how shall I say this diplomatically...) utterly vile?
http://www.gpwa.org/forum/eatting-filipino-balut-198757.html + http://philippinesfoodrecipes.blogspot.fr/2009/06/filipino-food-delicacy-known-as-balut.html
Remember, many of us used to consider octopus and squid gross until we discovered sushi and fried calamari. I admit that there is no rhyme or reason to my meat philosophy: I despise liver and chopped liver (insert shudder of disgust) but adore pâté: goose liver, pork liver, duck liver, I've tried and liked 'em all.
I cannot say I believe that this is the day that Jesus rose up from the dead. But I can say with complete certainty that if I were to serve one of those cute animals for dinner, this would be the day that Gigi would rise up from the table to go fetch herself some yogurt. She has unilaterally decided not to eat even any form of beef, hamburgers included. She's near vegetarian, with a healthy love for certain pork products: bacon, ham, and pork loin, as well as chicken sausages. (And when I was a vegetarian, I used to cheat with occasional chicken curries and an annual trip for barbeque ribs, so I guess strict dogmaticism does not run in our family...). Pippa, on the other hand, we call "Henry VIII" because not only does she love meat, she particularly likes to hold a bone and start gnawing.
Since I'm the one that does the grocery shopping, however, most of our family's meat intake is chicken, turkey, fish, and occasionally pork, which makes us decidedly very un-French. I would kill for ground turkey so I could make meatloaf and chili the way I do in California (though, hypocritically, I wouldn't actually kill a turkey for the ground turkey....). This aversion to many forms of meat makes it difficult for me to find something I'm excited about on most French brasserie menus. And it may be what drives Anthony to order the most bizarre form of meat available whenever he gets the chance ("Blood sausage?" He's there...), though it could also be because he has a perverse sense of humor that way.
And so, on this day when some believe Jesus rose from the dead to absolve us of our sins, and when they celebrate, logically, with a big ham or lamb in the middle of the table, and six-foot pastel bunnies delivering chocolate eggs and jelly beans, we will be celebrating with omelettes and hunting for tie-dyed Easter eggs in the park. But no baluts. Happy Easter and Happy Eating!
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