T-bone
Thursday, May 14, 2009 at 12:11PM Recently, our family embarked on a new adventure. We, and I should clarify - my husband, decided it would be advantageous, cost effective, and fun to raise our own beef calf. "It's just a good idea," he told us. It is here that I should say, he was alone in his conclusion. The kids were mortified and I hoped it was just a passing fancy, a wild hair, an unfulfilled childhood dream that my husband sometimes entertains. With this, I decided it best to give no feedback, in body language or verbiage. Ignoring his unusual ideas sometimes made them go away. As if my ability to say nothing made him realize his insanity. Not this time.
Confident of his good idea, he purchased his beef calf and proudly drove us out to see him. We cried. There he was, this skinny, scrawny brown and white baby. Flashes of Mad Cow disease raced through my mind as the children cried, "We're not eating him." So, he made them a deal. Which is really his specialty as our whole marriage has been similar to Let's Make A Deal. He told the kids (and me) that if the cow was really friendly and tame, they could turn it into a pet and we would not eat it. Grins filled up their faces and they took off to kiss the cow. The cow ran straight into fences and over hills to escape the four children trying to save it's life. It's here that I should mention that cows are rather dumb. It went on this way for a number of days before the kids retreated, "Ok dad, you can eat the cow." He named him T-bone.
For the next two years, we paid few visits to the cow and heard about his rich diet of corn and grain. And then it happened. My husband found a man who slaughters and butchers animals for consumption. He came, did what he does and left. About three weeks later, T-bone came home. All 395 pounds of him.
The day he was to come home, I suggested that we buy a freezer. Barely able to handle our weekly rations, our freezer was full. My husband had not thought this far ahead. Oh, yea, where are we going to store him? With this, he excitedly purchased our first deep freezer where T-bone, neatly wrapped and labeled in small white packaged bundles, came to stay. I didn't count, but I'm pretty sure that my husband made trips to the garage each hour for the first few days just to lift the lid and gaze upon his bounty. Whenever someone stopped by, they got an immediate tour to the freezer. Like a proud father, he blushed at the compliments about his cow.
That first day T-bone came home, my husband called to say that he was making dinner. I never argue when he says things like this. He told me it would be a pot roast with potatoes and vegetables. I hung up and smiled. T-bone. We all sat down to dinner that night, said grace and ate. It was absolutely delicious. We began to talk about the day, about school and life. Our 9 year old son noticed that his sister was eating a butter sandwich. "Why aren't you eating the roast?" He asked. "I'm not having any part of eating T-bone," she curtly retorted. Both our sons' eyes grew to full moons as they realized they were eating their dad's cow. The little one burst out laughing while our older son exclaimed, "This is the first time I've eaten beef that I know."
We've had many meals from the deep freeze. Our daughter, who began her vegetarian tendencies at the age of three when she saw chickens on a rotisserie at Sea World, has partaken of none. The rest of us, we now agree. Getting a beef cow was a good idea.
Reader Comments (4)
Funny, I have a friend at work that was just telling me about this very thing on Wednesday. I am thinking of going in on thirds to buy a cow. Who can eat 400 lbs of red meat? I'm with CC.
KC
You are in on the next cow. Too much red meat for me as well. Perhaps we should be looking into a flock of chickens!
I love the quote: "the first time I've eaten beef that I know!" Great blog, Sheila! So glad you're writing--thanks for sharing.
Thanks, Cynthia. It was funny at the time, too. Our daughter STILL won't eat the beef she knows.