We get bison meat from a buffalo ranch up in the beautiful hills behind our house. It's lean and healthy and delicious, from animals ranging in spacious rolling meadows and grazing on succulent Western New York grass. I have to be careful not to get too attached to the bison, though - they're such magnificent beasts. The herd galloping over the hill is an unforgettable sight. Many centuries ago, our neighbourhood was part of the great migration route for giant herds of bison moving up and down from what's now North Carolina. Of course the early pioneers and hunters put paid to all that.
Some other neighbours keep a few highland cattle - they're pets, really, with names and only once did they slaughter one. It was for a family reunion; everyone was sitting round the table ready to eat roast beef when someone piped up, "Is this someone we know?"
"Er, yes, actually, it's Fred".
And no one could eat a thing.
No comments:
Post a Comment