I could go on and on about the way I was raised with respect to food. But to keep this short, I will stick to meat. My parents loved steak. And hated throwing away leftovers. This meant that I ate a lot of steaks growing up and a variety of meals that included leftover steaks. Which meant by the time I was old enough to consciously choose my plate contents I passed on steak. Remember how I tend to broaden these decisions? Soon this morphed in me refusing to eat anything beef.
Enter meeting my farm bred, cattle-raising husband at age 18. The first 10 years of our marriage was tough. I refused to eat beef, and he hated having chicken every meal. Eventually, I slowly added beef into my diet with prime steaks. And I realized all that I had missed. Soon my in-laws were sending home large packages of beef from the farm to eat. Many friends know I travel to the farm once or twice a year to pick up coolers full of steaks, roasts and ground meat. I fully realize how spoiled I am.
And how unique this is. In fact sometimes I forget that not everyone has access to a working farm and ranch. Friends don't even think twice when I email that we are loading hay or picking up seed. This last weekend though took the cake.
Email exchange between me and my friend, Nancy:
Andrea: I'm heading back home with Craig after picking up our boar
Nancy: I can't say I see a sentence about picking up a boar every day or well... ever! You Texans.
Andrea: It was supposed to be boat!!!!! Lol
Heh. My poor friends don't even know when it's a typo or when it's just the next crazy thing Andrea is doing!