What's for Dinner #49 - the Falling Leaves Edition - Sept 2019

Good Afternoon from Barcelona,

Photo 1) Was a small marinated sardine on a bed of quinoa caviar …

Photo 2) Brittany Coast Lobster with a Basque Evoo (extra virgin olive oil )

Photo 3) A King Crab Slaw with Basque Red Piquillo Peppers (they are sweet not piquant) sitting on a bed of shellfish broth.

Quite extraordinary !!

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Okay, you’re forcing me to tell a story I was refraining from telling because of these cute photos and nice stories about visiting goats named Todd…

When I was a kid we went on vacation to Negril Beach, Jamaica with a group of friends & family. It was underdeveloped and really beautiful at the time. We stayed with and had all our meals cooked by this lovely family who lived in shack-like bungalows on the beach. They had this friendly, little goat who us kids played with everyday. We named him Bill. On our last night the family threw us a big party and served a surprise dish as a thank you… Curried Goat. They were so proud to be doing this and it really was a big deal because they were poor and only had the one goat. Us kids were devastated but our parents shushed us and made us eat poor Bill to avoid embarrassing and offending this kind family.

Sorry… couldn’t help myself.

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It’s a great story. Animals are food. Your family must have made a big impression for them to offer that hospitality. Life story at your age at the time that I’m sure you understand now.

Jamaican curried goat is really good.

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Thanks @Auspicious. Yep, knowing my mom she gave them enough to buy more goats. The milk was a big part of their diet. It was a memorable lesson on being considerate, graciousness and living with and how other folks live.

…but we did not like the curried goat. :sweat_smile:

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Oh my …
One thing is eating meat and another in my viewpoint, is eating “a pet” so to speak.

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I have an even WORSE story. My parents gave me a cute white little bunny for Easter when I was about 6. They got it from some farmer friends. I named him Marshmallow and loved him. When he became full grown, they said he had to go back to the farm. A couple days later my mom had a quart jar of canned meat. She told me it was chicken, but I realized it was Marshmallow and was horrified and crying. I refused to eat anything. I will not to this day touch rabbit. Jeez, what were they thinking??

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Goat stew? I have no problem with sheep. I am looking out at this moment at our neighbor’s small flock. Love lamb chops, legs, shanks, tongues. But I can’t eat goat. They just look so wise.

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Exactly!

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Even when chewing on a can?

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I know, And in my ignorant youth I used to feed them cigarettes at Knott’s Berry Farm. They LOVED them!

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One man’s meat is another man’s poison… or something like that. To us it was a pet. To them it was dinner. :cry:

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Yep, you win. Much worse story! Have you ever asked them about it? Were they struggling to feed the family? Otherwise it’s just cruel! I :heart: the name Marshmallow for a bunny, btw.

I have always had the greatest respect and admiration for 4H youth who raise an animal with full knowledge that they would have to let them go, most probably for food. With better endings, the same is true with those who raise guide and other professional dogs.

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Didn’t mean to one up you @TheCookie! Dad was a pilot, so we were always financially comfortable and never food challenged thankfully. I hadn’t even thought of it for years until I read your goat story. Dad was a farm boy and was pragmatic about things like that. Mom is gone now, so never raised the issue with them, and they were both quite callous with emotions besides. Probably what made him a good triple war veteran and her a staunch Air Force wife. Hope I’m not over sharing here, should probably talk to a therapist - shrinkrap are you there?? :joy::joy:

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We don’t eat rabbit here. Our son was adopted from foster care at age 7. He insisted we call him Bunny until he was well past age 15. One of his favorite picture books was a book about a bunny named Marshmallow. The first gift we gave him when he was visiting weekends before moving in was a stuffed rabbit he selected. In our family, pets don’t have owners, they have humans. I understand rabbit is delicious to many people, but we can’t do it!

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You’re Funny!

Yep, my dad was a pretty conservative and disciplined former soldier too. Every warrior needs a warrior wife and that ain’t no small thing. My mom was his 2nd wife, 2nd life… She mostly entertained. :cocktail: :nail_care: But I think every parent has told a pet lie at one time or another… I question a few tales I was told, hmmm.

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So sweet! I love all these stories. All inspired because of one word… “Stew”.

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We have a similar problem with a niece who is enamored by lambs. She easily has a hundred stuffed lambs. Our solution was quite simple. We call it all “mutton.”

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I wish that worked on me.

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