When I first moved to the country in 2007 there were a lot of things that surprised and amused me; the serious way they approached show competitions, very small kids on sheep at the annual rodeo, goat and camel racing. But the thing that shocked me the most was the meat. Everywhere. Huge. Dripping.
Now I’m not a vegetarian myself and am quite happy cooking and eating meat, but I was not prepared for steaks the size of plates. And no I am not exaggerating. They actually had to put their eggs on another plate because they wouldn’t fit for all the meat.
Before moving to the country I had never been to a BBQ where only meat was served. Steak. Sausages. Steakettes. Ham steaks. Bacon. Surely they want something green to go with it?! But no, there was not a skerrick of salad in sight.
When I first moved out here my housemate (now husband – another story) took it upon himself to show me around and I quickly got an education on farming. His family owned a pig farm but he also took me to see cattle (free range and feedlot), sheep and goats.
I learnt a lot that first year. I not only gained a better awareness of where my meat came from but also an appreciation of the farming and families behind the production. I learnt which practices I agreed with and those that I don’t. I learnt what meat to eat, and what to avoid. I learnt to eat before going to events.
I learnt to take a salad with me.