10 July 2008

And I’m saying I don’t do chicken (much)

PETA leaflets

I have mentioned before that my sister is a vegetarian. She picks her food the way she does her battles, which is to say she will no more eat animal meat than criticize us for doing so — a sensible attitude, if you ask me, since in such manner is the peace kept in the House That Worships Pork.

There are trade-offs, of course. For one, she gets to paper the refrigerator — which I like to think of as mine, by the way — with PETA leaflets that feature interesting portraits: scalded and/or debeaked chickens, pigs missing tails, a severed cow’s head pared down to bone, etc. It makes for an absorbing conversation piece: “The vivid red of the blood really stands out against the gray finish, no? And check out that eyeball — it looks soooo alive! How’s your steak, by the way?”

No offense to the PETA folks; I wish them luck on their noble crusade to end animal cruelty and promote healthy eating habits while they are at it. I am as appalled as the next person about the deplorable conditions in most commercial feedlots (this article comes to mind), even as my own memories of the whole (pig)pen-to-plate process are more benign. My mother used to raise pigs, and as far as I can recall they had their tails intact, were well-fed, and lived in clean spacious pens. Death for them was quick and merciful. I have no hang-ups in that department. There’s simply no way to guilt me into forsaking pork.

On the other hand, the poultry industry is none too happy with our household. We don’t need PETA to convince us to stay away from chicken because we are so not into it (and fowl in general). Oh, we like to have some chicken soup every now and then, and I make a mean chicken macaroni (or so they say), but that’s about it. I eat turkey once a year, which gives me just enough time to forget how cloying it can be. Fried chicken? I rarely venture beyond the skin — and the butt (isol). As for barbecue, I once found myself so hungry I asked a drinking buddy to order some. He brought back a platter of chicken feet. Know what they call those things? Adidas.

I hope you found that amusing. I didn’t. PETA has it right. People are cruel.

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