I just put a chicken in the oven for the second time ever. The first time ever was a couple of weeks ago. When I put a whole chicken into a pot upside down, that’s how it came in the package and I knew no different. I didn’t even think about where the breasts were. To tell you the truth, I was really busy with hardcore freaking out at the task of preparing the bird instead of just going to the store and buying one already cooked instead. What was I thinking? This used to be alive! I stepped away to take a breath more than once. Like I said: Hard. Core. Freaking. Out.
I am 52 years old.
My fundamental belief, that I have happily held on to my whole life, is that meat comes from the grocery store. The same as Kraft dinner and yogurt and sugar. Yes, I’m aware that all types of meat were once part of a living, breathing being. But my life was so far removed from any evidence of that, that I conceptually and confidently believed animals that were not born wild or to be a pet were born to be food. If anything, I believed I was honouring their life by eating them. That’s what they were made for.
Still, I only cooked boneless, skinless chicken breasts, because I was… well, because I’m fat. And I believed that’s what I knew that’s what fat people are supposed to eat. More than anything back in the day, I ate takeout – like, a lot… that’s a significant part of the reason I was fat! – and the takeout meat was so processed that I figured there was probably barely any formerly living animals involved in the whole situation. Either way, I just said no to skin and bones. I tried to cook wings one. Nearly killed me. Ugh.
I should point out that I didn’t avoid food with bones due to a love of animals or a moral belief. I love animals, don’t get me wrong, but I ate meat without remorse because, as I said, they existed for consumption. An apple is grown, a chicken is born. Same. And still, the whole farm idea that people might know or even bond with an animal, and then murder that animal, and later eat it?? That is a concept that simply doesn’t make sense to me.
You might read that calmly, but as I write it, I am filled with an incredible dread. Almost as bad as I felt preparing a bird in itself. Which might also not seem like a big deal, but it terrorized me. Taking apart a cooked chicken that I bought at a grocery store (hence, keeping in line with food coming from the grocery store theory) freaked me out, preparing a raw chicken to be cooked for the first time was a whole different level.
Today, however, with the same anguish but armed with the lessons from my first undercooked and ultimately disposed of attempt, as well as a masterclass about where food comes from, I pushed through the horror, and then looked at the chicken with respect and compassion. I thanked it for its life, and I felt a little better about myself because this time I chose an organic chicken, raised and raized humanely, with grains and without antibiotics.
My meat still needs to come from a grocery store, but I’ll now choose to support a grower that lets my food flourish in the sun. Apple or chicken or human being, a bit of fresh air and sunshine can help a great deal. And after decades of eating a strict diet of man-made junk, followed more recently by a discovery of the diversity and simplicity of salads and vegetables, I expect some of that great deal of help will be passed along to me.
Now, I know what you’re thinking, and I get it. You’re wondering why the hell I’m telling you all this. You might also be wondering why you’re still reading. I have no answer for you, but I’ll get to the point.
As I get older, I am learning that there are some fundamental gaps in my life experience and knowledge.
And that makes me very happy.
Because now I’m brave enough to learn through failure, and confident enough to keep trying until I get it right. It won’t surprise you to be told that this way is so much better than fear and ignorance.
If you are still reading, I hope you enjoyed my story. I think I’m gonna go be like an apple and get myself some fresh air and sunshine.
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