But if uninformed baby's never been introdused to chicken nuggets before most likely the result for baby's apetite would be "nuggets = raw parsnip".Originally Posted by MarkBastable
I wish I was never been introduced to meat meals, or was allergic to it. I'm not doing any better than your seven year old while trying to take animal dishes out of my diet. But I still don't dare try this with my 3 year old child. she doesn't like beef, i blend it into her soup.
These kind of threads are so banal... posting animal pictures..
however, It was Thomas Hardy who made me think over my eating. I wonder how much Hardy himself was enjoying pork chops.
I couldn't even finish the chapter but it was enough to get one more point (one less eater) for cows and chicken; my record is half clean; I've never eaten any other animals, including sea food
"Jude the Obscure" Chapter 10
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The time arrived for killing the pig which Jude and his wife had
fattened in their sty during the autumn months, and the butchering
was timed to take place as soon as it was light in the morning, so
that Jude might get to Alfredston without losing more than a quarter
of a day.
The night had seemed strangely silent. Jude looked out of the window
long before dawn, and perceived that the ground was covered with
snow--snow rather deep for the season, it seemed, a few flakes still
falling.
"I'm afraid the pig-killer won't be able to come," he said to
Arabella.
"Oh, he'll come. You must get up and make the water hot, if you want
Challow to scald him. Though I like singeing best."
"I'll get up," said Jude. "I like the way of my own county."
He went downstairs, lit the fire under the copper, and began feeding
it with bean-stalks, all the time without a candle, the blaze
flinging a cheerful shine into the room; though for him the sense of
cheerfulness was lessened by thoughts on the reason of that blaze--to
heat water to scald the bristles from the body of an animal that as
yet lived, and whose voice could be continually heard from a corner
of the garden. At half-past six, the time of appointment with the
butcher, the water boiled, and Jude's wife came downstairs.
"Is Challow come?" she asked.
"No."
They waited, and it grew lighter, with the dreary light of a snowy
dawn. She went out, gazed along the road, and returning said, "He's
not coming. Drunk last night, I expect. The snow is not enough to
hinder him, surely!"
"Then we must put it off. It is only the water boiled for nothing.
The snow may be deep in the valley."
"Can't be put off. There's no more victuals for the pig. He ate the
last mixing o' barleymeal yesterday morning."
"Yesterday morning? What has he lived on since?"
"Nothing."
"What--he has been starving?"
"Yes. We always do it the last day or two, to save bother with the
innerds. What ignorance, not to know that!"
"That accounts for his crying so. Poor creature!"
"Well--you must do the sticking--there's no help for it. I'll show
you how. Or I'll do it myself--I think I could. Though as it is
such a big pig I had rather Challow had done it. However, his basket
o' knives and things have been already sent on here, and we can use
'em."
"Of course you shan't do it," said Jude. "I'll do it, since it must
be done."
He went out to the sty, shovelled away the snow for the space of a
couple of yards or more, and placed the stool in front, with the
knives and ropes at hand. A robin peered down at the preparations
from the nearest tree, and, not liking the sinister look of the
scene, flew away, though hungry. By this time Arabella had joined
her husband, and Jude, rope in hand, got into the sty, and noosed the
affrighted animal, who, beginning with a squeak of surprise, rose to
repeated cries of rage. Arabella opened the sty-door, and together
they hoisted the victim on to the stool, legs upward, and while Jude
held him Arabella bound him down, looping the cord over his legs to
keep him from struggling.
The animal's note changed its quality. It was not now rage, but the
cry of despair; long-drawn, slow and hopeless.
"Upon my soul I would sooner have gone without the pig than have had
this to do!" said Jude. "A creature I have fed with my own hands."
"Don't be such a tender-hearted fool! There's the sticking-knife--
the one with the point. Now whatever you do, don't stick un too
deep."
"I'll stick him effectually, so as to make short work of it. That's
the chief thing."
"You must not!" she cried. "The meat must be well bled, and to do
that he must die slow. We shall lose a shilling a score if the meat
is red and bloody! Just touch the vein, that's all. I was brought
up to it, and I know. Every good butcher keeps un bleeding long.
He ought to be eight or ten minutes dying, at least."
"He shall not be half a minute if I can help it, however the meat may
look," said Jude determinedly. Scraping the bristles from the pig's
upturned throat, as he had seen the butchers do, he slit the fat;
then plunged in the knife with all his might.
"'Od damn it all!" she cried, "that ever I should say it! You've
over-stuck un! And I telling you all the time--"
"Do be quiet, Arabella, and have a little pity on the creature!"
"Hold up the pail to catch the blood, and don't talk!"
However unworkmanlike the deed, it had been mercifully done. The
blood flowed out in a torrent instead of in the trickling stream she
had desired. The dying animal's cry assumed its third and final
tone, the shriek of agony; his glazing eyes riveting themselves on
Arabella with the eloquently keen reproach of a creature recognizing
at last the treachery of those who had seemed his only friends
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