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.
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