Family Farms 3
I grew up on one.
Family farm, that is.
It’s no longer a family farm. We rent it to a large scale farmer who rents many farms–the economics of farming are such that no one could make it on 53 arable acres any more–unless they are 53 acres of chicken coops.
Despite the wild representations of the anti-inheritance tax crowd, family farms are pretty much a thing of the past.
At the same time, I’m certainly no fan of the extreme “animal rights” types who would have us survive on a diet of tofu. (Check out my recipes category–see what I mean.)
But this is one darn good piece of video. And it does contain some truth that those who think that steak somehow just appears out of nowhere wrapped in cellophane in the Safeway meat aisle really need to know.
Even with the editorializing, which lumps good producers with bad, it’s a great piece of satire.
With a tip to Andrew Sullivan.
December 15, 2006 at 8:11 am
I was raised in Dallas by a divorced, Northern, city woman. I was convinced that the grocery store was where meat came from. Chris spent some time working for a sausage company, & it was from him that I learned what a “kill floor” was. I still get meat from the grocery, & won’t touch anything that Chris’ friend Brian brings over. But, he’s a hunter & uses all that he gets.
December 15, 2006 at 6:48 pm
Well, meat does come from the grocery store, but a certain type of tree-hugger denies to him- or herself how it got there to begin with.
I have no problems with hunters. I don’t hunt, but that’s pretty much because my father didn’t hunt (though I’m a damned good shot), but my cousins and in-laws do.
Hunters who waste nothing are in touch with the bloody reality of the food chain and should be respected, not reviled, by those who know nothing more about hunting than they learned by watching Bambi. Hunters who hunt only for trophies–well, that’s a different story.
And hunters who go on canned hunts–they are just vile.
By the way, Bambi-burgers are delicious. And Bambi Chili–yums.
December 16, 2006 at 8:51 am
ICK!!!
Honest, I do know where meat comes from, I just don’t like to picture it. I’ve tried buffalo, elk, venison, quail, wild duck, & all the stuff that Chris has ordered in restraunts, or that Brian has brought over. I just don’t like the taste.
Brian is a hunter that takes only what he will use. I’m pretty sure he even processed the meat himself. (My mother was shocked when I explained to her the purpose of deer & elk hunting seasons here.) He teases me something fierce about shying away from it, but this is what he does. He keeps chickens for eggs, turkeys for eating, I suppose, & African Gray geese as an alarm system, as well as using their eggs. He told me I was getting brave if I would move a hen to take her eggs. He calls me a “city girl”. That’s ok, because he fits perfectly the image of a true mountain man.
The people that hold the canned hunts need to be the targets. Sport hunting for trophies, no. The heads and/or the fur looks much better on the animal that had it.