It’s not as blatant as it used to be
on TV cookery programmes, but its appearance on Masterchef the other
day reminded me that eating bone marrow is still very much an in sort
of fad.
It always seems to be presented as a
sort of deep fried mini scotch egg, a little round parcel of offal,
to be sold for 16 quid as a starter by Michelin starred “Brit-Chefs”
on the ghastly gastro pub circuit. The sort of people for whom The
Obese Goose or whatever it is called, is just not experimental
enough.
I’m all for utilising the whole of an
animal. Farming for meat is expensive, barely-to-un-sustainable and
thus using the whole of the beast for food is ethically the right
thing to do. But please, let me eat it as reconstituted cheap ham, or
ground up eye-and-ballburgers.
I am not a Buffy monster, or a space
creature with unusual tastes in organs. Ergo, the idea of scoffing
into tripe, or kidney (piss making) or liver (shit making) or any
intestinal or ocular apparatus is vile. But no, the new Brit-Chef
scoops out parts that should never ever see the surface of the plate,
and foists them upon a gullible public.
“Oh dahhling…that warm calf’s
throat salad with an experience of lung was just deeeee-viiiiine. And
cheap for twice the price at 18.99”.
If I was a glooping, slurping creature
with the wrong number of arms and legs, or none at all, I might be
interested in eating such hip concoctions. But I’m not. Give me
burgers, or cheap ham, or turkey twizzlers.
Just don’t give me eyes.
Copyright Bloody
Mulberry 19/11/2013
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