There was a time when I wanted to be a chef. I would be the world’s greatest chef, and have a show where I screamed BAM a lot. Here’s why that fucker Emeril beat me to it.
Meat.
I can’t cut meat unless it’s completely lean. Why not? Because it makes me barf.
I’m standing in the kitchen, not fifteen minutes ago. I’ve got this flank steak that I’m cutting into thin strips, and am going to make a big colorful spectacle of it.
Flank steak has this vein going through it.
The first time I dealt with the vein, I threw up. I tried to excise it from the rest of the steak, but all for naught. As I pressed down on the meat while cutting it, the vein jizzed blood on me. Goodbye appetite.
Now, I have excised the vein, and fed it and the surrounding meat to the dog. Better her than me. There will not be any puppy kisses tonight, though.
so I merrily begin cutting away. And I hit the lyer of fat that seperates the meat at one point. I saw that, and threw up again.
I guess I could understand, since the SO is the same way. He can’t stand veins, gristle, or fat, either.
If just cutting a piece of meat bothers you, you would have never made it through culinary school when they brought in whole lambs to break down.
If your lamb breaks down, do you call the Ovine Club (like the Auto Club, only for sheep) and have them put it on the rack to fix it? I’ve heard of a rack for lambs, this is what it is, right?
-Rue.
Pansy. When I get steaks, I’ll rip out the veins, or tendons, or whatever’s in there, and identify them as such to the people around me before eating them. Really grosses out my friends.
I’m a hunter, and just now finishing off last year’s venison (and looking forward to this year’s kill). The thing I love about venison is how lean it is.
Every time I see a steak I envision this lethargic, stupid bull out in the fields, being fattened with chemicals and unhealthy diets of pre-bloom alfalfa (you don’t think cows are that flatulent naturally, do you?). We could also talk about the inhumanity of the slaughterhouse…
Compare that to the life of a free-running deer. We need more hunters.
And as for the veins and such, as disgusting as it may sound, I really look forward to field-dressing, gutting, and skinning my catch. I am in absolute wonder at how these creatures are put together. The patterns of the veins, the mystery of solid organs such as the liver or kidney, the complexity of the lungs.
It makes life seem all the much more beautiful, and precious.
On the other hand, I guess I’m just as likely to freak out if I find a hair on my meat.
just ask your butcher (i mean butcher not the charlitan at WALMART) to take it out , i used to know this butcher who would do this for you as long as you paid for the mean + the removed parts weight
heh you should see fillet steak that sucker has more fat on it than er Bill Gate’s bank account
Really grosses out my friends.