My brother used to claim it is more moral to eat beef than yogurt. One cow could feed him for a long time, but with each bite of yogurt he killed millions of living individuals.
The destruction of chloroplasts is a crime against all living things, that’s why I eat herbivores or anything else that has eyes on the sides of their head.
Here in the Eden of Year-Round Fresh Produce, one can assemble a delicious salad of bitter and sweet greens, spicy peppers, various veggies, delicious radishes, and so on, so that all you need is little olive oil and vinegar, maybe for dressing; it’d be a travesty to cover up the taste of all those fresh veggies by smothering them with “Bleu Cheese Dressing”. But having been served what passes for “salad” in the benighted lands of the American south and midwest (and Scotland), I can see why there’s so much blatant wrongheadedness on display here. Wilted iceberg lettuce and factory-grown, mushy tomatoes, indeed . . . You poor people.
I fully appreciate the logic of James’ OP. However, to level the playing field, we should only eat the meat of animals killed in physical combat by men armed only with crude knives and wearing loincloths. Or killed by women. Dressed in loincloths. And looking like Raquel Welch in 1,000,000 B.C.
Save your pity. We Yank Midwesterners, at least, have the glory that is lime Jell-O salad, with shredded carrots and cottage cheese.
Looks yummy in its confettied pastel-ness, dunnit. If you’re itchin’ to get all Food Network hoity-toity, you rice* cream cheese into it instead, maybe throw in some shredded cabbage or canned mandarin orange segments.
AND it’s gelatin. Like, from animals.
*Like Alton Brown, sage cooking force that he is, I for one feel that kitchen utensils that mutitask are far better for The Kitchen Uncluttered, so a colander or sieve can do the same job as a ricer. You just squish the cream cheese thru your colander or sieve, and Bob’s yer uncle. You can’t drain spaghetti in a ricer without being laughed at. Do the math. But, if you just like More Stuff, buy your ricer and God bless you.
I think this is what happens when you don’t have enough to do in the winter.
*My mother tells me that when I was an infant she put a plate of jell-o in front of me, and when it commenced to jiggling, I fell out of my high-chair in fright. I’ve hated the stuff forever.
A typically Californian assumption about life in the Midwest that I’ve had to gently correct before. No, inventing Jell-O “salads” is what happens in winter for bored Midwesterners who haven’t yet discovered sex. The vast majority of us definitely do NOT prefer Jell-O salads over the other. I take it you haven’t yet seen the steamy windows of Minnesota on a January day. Yep, good times. Ya, shure, yew betcha, hey.
