georgeleecunningham.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I sometimes think that I am getting soft and overly sentimental in my old age.

I – like most of my fellow humans – am an omnivore, meaning I like to eat both plants and animals. I understand there are many vegetarians out there who have boycotted meat, but I think they are denying their basic instincts.

Like all omnivores – such as the bears, pigs, racoons, rats, skunks, gorillas, and most birds – we may enjoy veggies, fruits and berries, but we also need some meat to round out our diet. We are what we eat, and meat gives us the edge to deal with the world as it is.

But, as I get older, I have a different attitude toward the food that I eat. As corny as it may sound, I want to respect the animal who has provided me his flesh. So, I buy free-range chickens and free-range chicken eggs when I go to the grocery store, and I attempt to buy grass-fed beef. I am not that naïve. I know that labels can be misleading and what is advertised isn’t always the complete truth.

But when somebody kills an animal, I would like to think they do it with respect and put every bit of that animal’s body toward a purpose. And since I do not kill the animal myself, and I would not have the means to process that animal’s body if I did, I have to trust the label.

I am also aware that my preferences along that line can be expensive. Not everybody can afford the luxury of such do-gooder indulgences. When there are many mouths to feed and only so much cash to spend, one has to be ready to compromise.

But here is my moral dilemma.

I love rack of lamb. These are the ribs of a cute, little 6-month-old offspring of sheep. Their meat is tender and sweet, and I truly crave and enjoy it. So, I bought a rack of lamb at the market several weeks ago and told myself that just this one time, I was going to eat it and remember how good it tastes. As my wife Carmela unwrapped, prepared and cooked the lamb up for me, I sat watching and promised us both “OK, I’m eating this because we bought it, but after this, no more lamb for me ever.” And so, I ate it, and my goodness, it was delicious. Since then, I get rack of lamb about twice a month. So much for wild promises.

Carmela won’t eat it. She eats meat, but women are not as much meat-lovers as are men. And she says she doesn’t like lamb, so when I have lamb, she eats lentils or a black-bean veggie-burger that has corn and other little vegies in it, for heaven’s sake. Last time, she insisted I have a bite, and it was OK, but come on, it was hardly meat.

I would truly hate it if Carmela gave up meat altogether, and I’m left eating steaks and chops all by myself. Dinner would not be the same. Now I get the benefit of eating part of her meat most nights.

The problem is that I like lamb. Lions, tigers, wolves and other predators stalk the young offspring of the animals they prey upon. In the animal kingdom, there are those who eat and those who are eaten, and the line between the two is often very fuzzy and imprecise. Humans are usually – but not always – at the top of the food chain, and then only because we have technology on our side.

The truth is, I like being on the top of the food chain. It’s one of the many perks to being a human.

And I intend to enjoy it, no matter how guilty it sometimes makes me feel.

NOTE: Carmela edited this essay the same way she cooks rack of lamb. Under duress.

– George Lee Cunningham

If you would like to subscribe to our work, you may contact me at george@georgeleecunningham.com and let me know and you will get an email reminder of blog postings. Your name will not be shared and you may cancel at any time.