Scary Weekend, part deux
I humbly apologize for dragging this story out but I have been so busy writing and preparing for the new Straight & Nappy show that opens November 26 (more details later). I have to get back to last weekend.
So, when we left off, Steve and I had ventured into a live poultry store in order and purchased a live rabbit. "I'll take the black one," I said very matter of fact to the skinny Latino with bad 20-something facial hair. The fine butchers killed and dressed right in front of me.
I remember thinking "if this doesn't make me a vegetarian than nothing will" and you know what? I still like meat. I'm just not sure I need to watch the slaughtering.
We took our fresh meat home after a stop at one of the many Middle-Eastern stores along the Devon Avenue corridor. While shopping, Steve and I discussed the difference between buying food that processed at a farm or plant vs. Our recent purchase of the Easter Bunny. Steve definitely felt that not seeing the process made the experience of eating livestock less painful. I agreed but felt that at least I knew the origins of my meat. I also felt that watching this animal die actually made me more respectful of the process. We live in such an easy world compared to many. We don't have to worry about hunting and gathering. We just make our way to the local market and pick what we want without a care as to where it came from or the animal that gave it's life for our meal.
We took Easter Bunny home and I began to clean and chop him up. We both labored on the preparation of our rabbit stew. The problem was that this rabbit was huge, about 8 pounds. It was too large and old for stewing. It really needed to braised. We didn't know so we continued on. Several hours later, our rabbit was not yet tender and we decided to call it a night.
The next morning, Steve put the stew back on to simmer for a couple of more hours while I slept in knowing that I would have to get up and sing "Conjunction Junction" down at Drury Lane. I awoke to the distinct smell of something burning. "I think the stew is burning," I yelled out. "No, I don't think it is," said Steve, "I've been stirring the pot every 15 minutes and I have the fire on low." Well, as you have already guessed, the Easter Bunny was burning. Steve tried to salvage it but once that burnt taste gets into a soup or stew, there is no getting rid of it.
I couldn't believe it. We had gone to all the trouble of picking a creature to die (for our pleasure), discussing the ethics of the situation, resolving to respect the sacrity of the animal's death. Yet we had allowed it to die in vain. It did not provide substance's or pleasure. It just burned. Our 8 lbs., $2 a pound Easter Bunny was inedible.
I asked Steve to dispose of the remains of the Easter Bunny stew. I couldn't take it. I felt bad that had gone through all of this. And I hated that I had wasted $16 on a rabbit that I would never eat. Do you know how long it takes me to earn $16?
The irony is that we went to see the Wallace & Gromit movie, Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit", the following night. We laughed and enjoyed a very good movie. I would highly recommend it to anyone that enjoys laughter, claymation, or cheese.