Me! Me! Me! Me!
I don’t often eat beef and rarely eat dairy.
I’m sorry I should qualify this statement shouldn’t I ?
You see I have a habit of looking at animals and thinking about what they would look like (post preparation!) on my plate. I don’t eat much meat at all, mainly vegetarian with some fish and the odd bacon butty thrown in for good measure. But looking at animals and wondering what they taste like is a habit that was developed early on in life and one that seems to have firmly stayed with me, regardless of what I eat.
You see it all started out on trips to North Wales to visit family, namely my grandparents, Aunts and Uncles and Cousins. A traditional visit would be made in Spring, usually around Easter to take advantage of the Bank Holidays.
So let’s take a step back in time and imagine a pootling old car travelling along the old coast road in North Wales, after passing St Asaph, and onwards driving through small coastal towns, one side of the road we could catch glimpses of the sea, the other would invariably be small fields. And being North Wales the fields were full of sheep and their lambs.
I was taught very early on that shouting out of the window, (tut tut what kind of upbringing did this girl have I hear you ask?!) “Mint Sauce” was fun. “Mint Sauce” we would cry in unison at the sight a baby lambs frolicking in the sunshine and green fields.
Harsh? Naughty? Maybe. But perhaps its the combined result of previous generations having been farmers in Wales; it wasn’t until my parent’s generation that farming was a way of living.
Or maybe it was simply a way to entertain bored kids sitting in the back of the car, stuck in traffic jams and asking “are we there yet?”.
Then again it was probably the thought of perfectly cooked roast lamb….
You see, in later life my grandfather was a butcher, so I grew up understanding what great meat tasted like and invariably lamb would be served at some point over the Easter weekend – slowly roasted, heaps of veggies (sadly boiled to a pitiful death), lashings of gravy….. Ah, happy days!
But let’s get back to more recent times and my holiday in Devon.
May I introduce you to my near neighbours?
My nearest neighbours were a herd of cows, a daily wave from my window as they munched their way across a field in the morning and again when they sauntered back late afternoon having spent the day loitering and mooing, as cows do.
Aren’t they cuties? I have no idea what breed they are, I keep having to stop myself from saying what variety (stop thinking in terms of veggies Claire!). Maybe some bright spark like Miss Celi knows?
So all together now
“Horseradish”. “Horseradish”. “Horseradish” !!
Mind you we don’t just have to have horseradish with beef you know, it’s superb with homegrown beetroot – a recent discovery of beetroot soup with a dollop of horseradish – divine sweeties, simply divine!
Seeing as I was in Devon we could shout Clotted Cream ?!
“Clotted Cream”. “Clotted Cream“.
But then again, maybe not at these guys……. 😉