Okay, okay, it’s in poor taste, but I couldn’t resist. In my daily blogging I encountered a series of articles about all the kerfluffle (does anyone say that word outside of blogging, like, ever?) surrounding Hell’s Kitchen star chef Gordon Ramsay’s apparent enjoyment of horse meat.
Ramsay’s no stranger to confrontation, given his short fuse and inclination to use an f-word I’m not allowed to type here (hint: it’s not ‘food’). But I’m willing to bet this is the first time his opponents have basically thrown their crap at him.
See, in a May episode of Ramsay’s hit Brit program The F-Word, he tried and liked horse meat. Yep. Ramsay ate pony, horsie, equine, the fa-a-amous Mr. Ed…and according to him and his cohort on the show (journalist Janet-Street Porter), it’s not only delicious, it’s something everybody should have more of.
I’ve written a piece about the pros and cons of eating horse meat (seriously, someone give it a name already) which you can find over at R4L, and after researching the topic all day I can safely say this:
I want to try horse meat.
Yes, I know, horses are pretty and majestic and noble companions with big, soulful eyes and kind hearts and Gandalf’s horse could totally understand human speech and that’s great. But I’m a curious omnivore who loves him some red meat, and I have no sentimental attachment to horses. In fact, one of them tried to kill me in Hawaii, and another saw fit to keep grinding my leg against a barbed-wire fence for half a mile at a dude ranch. Luckily I was wearing heavy jeans at the time. Cows ain’t done nothin’ to me, and I eat them at least once a week!
Unfortunately, while I’m certainly allowed to cook up some horse steaks if I so choose, I’ll have a hard time finding them. Slaughtering horses for human consumption in the United States is illegal, and thanks to a recent ruling in Illinois slaughtering ‘em for export to that sweet overseas market is now illegal as well. So if I want to get my horse fixin’ fulfilled I’ll have to go to jolly old England.
Well, on the bright side, I might meet Ramsay this way. But he’d probably call me a ponce and make me cry, because, y’know, that’s what he does.
Photo courtesy of Wikipedia.