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Re: rabbit

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  • votrubam
    ... Many a Slovak tear is probably shed each Christmas Eve over breaded and fried Jimmys. Martin
    Message 1 of 13 , Sep 25, 2010
      > perfectly happy to make friends with my food before eating it!

      Many a Slovak tear is probably shed each Christmas Eve over breaded and fried "Jimmys."


      Martin
    • Lubos Brieda
      my grandma spends much time every day talking to her animals. Happy animals make for tasty dinner, I suspect. Speaking of the rabbit, I turned made soup from
      Message 2 of 13 , Sep 27, 2010
        my grandma spends much time every day talking to her animals. Happy animals make
        for tasty dinner, I suspect.

        Speaking of the rabbit, I turned made soup from the left over bones, it turned
        out great.
        -- Lubos Brieda --
        Get your free Slovak recipe book at slovakcooking.com/brochure





        ________________________________
        From: Michelle Burke <mcmburke@...>
        To: Slovak-World@yahoogroups.com
        Sent: Sat, September 25, 2010 7:20:04 PM
        Subject: Re: [Slovak-World] Re: rabbit

        I think that's the difference between being raised post-war in an American city
        and in a small town or a village or on a farm -- I had the same reaction when I
        was even younger at my other grandmother's house, where she raised chickens at
        the "bottom of the yard" and I witnessed my grandfather's chopping off a
        chicken's head -- yikes! it ran around without its head! (But I've never had
        any problem eating chicken, even after seeing that.) I know that farmers' kids
        raise pigs and cows and sheep and don't have any problem eating them. There was

        a good Gordon Elliott series on BBC America where he and his kids raised a pig
        in the backyard of their suburban London home, and then sent it off to be
        slaughtered -- the kids didn't have any problem eating the bacon after naming
        the pig.


        It's just a personal thing -- if I grew up differently, I'm sure I would be
        perfectly happy to make friends with my food before eating it!


        And, like I said, I do like rabbit, now!



        ________________________________
        From: votrubam <votrubam@...>
        To: Slovak-World@yahoogroups.com
        Sent: Sat, September 25, 2010 5:54:04 PM
        Subject: [Slovak-World] Re: rabbit


        > I can't make friends with my food

        To bring back what Ben recalled recently:

        <http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Slovak-World/message/30076>

        ... the carp, bought a couple of days in advance, often stays in the bathroom
        tub, lots of fun for the children, and then they face celebrating Christmas Eve
        by feasting on Jimmy, or whatever they decided to call "him."

        Martin




        [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]



        ------------------------------------

        Yahoo! Groups Links






        [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
      • Michelle Burke
        Last word -- Lubos, I think you are correct!  Everything I ve read says that animals raised on family farms -- cows, chickens, pigs, everything -- really do
        Message 3 of 13 , Sep 30, 2010
          Last word -- Lubos, I think you are correct!  Everything I've read says that
          animals raised on family farms -- cows, chickens, pigs, everything -- really do
          taste better because they are raised in a fairly stress free environment.  We
          should all look for our food raised with love and affection, and probably those
          rabbits my grandma raised tasted pretty good!




          ________________________________
          From: Lubos Brieda <lbrieda@...>
          To: Slovak-World@yahoogroups.com
          Sent: Mon, September 27, 2010 12:02:13 PM
          Subject: Re: [Slovak-World] Re: rabbit

           
          my grandma spends much time every day talking to her animals. Happy animals make

          for tasty dinner, I suspect.

          Speaking of the rabbit, I turned made soup from the left over bones, it turned
          out great.
          -- Lubos Brieda --
          Get your free Slovak recipe book at slovakcooking.com/brochure

          ________________________________
          From: Michelle Burke <mcmburke@...>
          To: Slovak-World@yahoogroups.com
          Sent: Sat, September 25, 2010 7:20:04 PM
          Subject: Re: [Slovak-World] Re: rabbit

          I think that's the difference between being raised post-war in an American city
          and in a small town or a village or on a farm -- I had the same reaction when I
          was even younger at my other grandmother's house, where she raised chickens at
          the "bottom of the yard" and I witnessed my grandfather's chopping off a
          chicken's head -- yikes! it ran around without its head! (But I've never had
          any problem eating chicken, even after seeing that.) I know that farmers' kids
          raise pigs and cows and sheep and don't have any problem eating them. There was

          a good Gordon Elliott series on BBC America where he and his kids raised a pig
          in the backyard of their suburban London home, and then sent it off to be
          slaughtered -- the kids didn't have any problem eating the bacon after naming
          the pig.

          It's just a personal thing -- if I grew up differently, I'm sure I would be
          perfectly happy to make friends with my food before eating it!

          And, like I said, I do like rabbit, now!

          ________________________________
          From: votrubam <votrubam@...>
          To: Slovak-World@yahoogroups.com
          Sent: Sat, September 25, 2010 5:54:04 PM
          Subject: [Slovak-World] Re: rabbit

          > I can't make friends with my food

          To bring back what Ben recalled recently:

          <http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Slovak-World/message/30076>

          ... the carp, bought a couple of days in advance, often stays in the bathroom
          tub, lots of fun for the children, and then they face celebrating Christmas Eve
          by feasting on Jimmy, or whatever they decided to call "him."

          Martin

          [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

          ------------------------------------

          Yahoo! Groups Links

          [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]




          [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
        • votrubam
          ... Crossbreeding them to want to be made a meal of could improve things even more, it s been suggested (details below). Martin x x x From Douglas Adams, The
          Message 4 of 13 , Sep 30, 2010
            > Everything I've read says that animals raised on family farms
            > -- cows, chickens, pigs, everything -- really do taste better
            > because they are raised in a fairly stress free environment.
            > We should all look for our food raised with love and affection

            Crossbreeding them to want to be made a meal of could improve things even more, it's been suggested (details below).


            Martin

            x x x

            From Douglas Adams, "The Restaurant at the End of the Universe."

            |
            The waiter approached. "Would you like to see the menu?" he said, "or would you like to meet the Dish of the Day?"

            "Huh?" said Ford.
            "Huh?" said Arthur.
            "Huh?" said Trillian.
            "That's cool," said Zaphod, "we'll meet the meat."

            A large dairy animal approached Zaphod's table, a large fat meaty quadruped of the bovine type with large watery eyes, small horns and what might almost have been an ingratiating smile on its lips.

            "Good evening," it lowed and sat back heavily on its haunches, "I am the main Dish of the Day. May I interest you in the parts of my body?"

            It harrumphed and gurgled a bit, wriggled its hind quarters in to a more comfortable position and gazed peacefully at them.

            Its gaze was met by looks of startled bewilderment from Arthur and Trillian, a resigned shrug from Ford and naked hunger from Zaphod.

            "Something off the shoulder perhaps?" suggested the animal, "Braised in a white wine sauce?"

            "Er, _your_ shoulder?" said Arthur in a horrified whisper.

            "But naturally my shoulder, sir," mooed the animal contentedly, "nobody else's is mine to offer."

            Zaphod leaped to his feet and started prodding and feeling the animal's shoulder appreciatively.

            "Or the rump is very good," murmured the animal. "I've been exercising it and eating plenty of grain, so there's a lot of good meat there."

            It gave a mellow grunt, gurgled again and started to chew the cud. It swallowed the cud again.

            "Or a casselore of me perhaps?" it added.

            "That's absolutely horrible," exclaimed Arthur, "the most revolting thing I've ever heard.'

            "What's the problem?" said Zaphod, now transferring his attention to the animal's enormous rump.

            "I just don't want to eat an animal that's standing there inviting me to," said Arthur, "It's heartless."

            "Better than eating an animal that doesn't want to be eaten," said Zaphod.

            "That's not the point," Arthur protested. Then he thought about it for a moment. "Alright," he said, "maybe it is the point. I don't care, I'm not going to think about it now. I'll just... er... I think I'll just have a green salad," he muttered.

            "May I urge you to consider my liver?" asked the animal, "it must be very rich and tender by now, I've been force-feeding myself for months."

            "A green salad," said Arthur emphatically.

            "A green salad?" said the animal, rolling his eyes disapprovingly at Arthur.

            "Are you going to tell me," said Arthur, "that I shouldn't have green salad?"

            "Well," said the animal, "I know many vegetables that are very clear on that point. Which is why it was eventually decided to cut through the whole tangled problem and breed an animal that actually wanted to be eaten and was capable of saying so clearly and distinctly. And here I am." It managed a very slight bow.

            "Glass of water please," said Arthur.

            "Look," said Zaphod, "we want to eat, we don't want to make a meal of the issues. Four rare steaks please, and hurry."

            The animal staggered to its feet. It gave a mellow gurgle. "A very wise choice, sir, if I may say so. Very good," it said, "I'll just nip off and shoot myself."

            He turned and gave a friendly wink to Arthur. "Don't worry, sir," he said, "I'll be very humane."

            It waddled unhurriedly off to the kitchen.
          • Julie Michutka
            Oy. A glass of water it is. *sigh* Julie
            Message 5 of 13 , Sep 30, 2010
              Oy. A glass of water it is. *sigh*

              Julie


              On Sep 30, 2010, at 2:11 PM, votrubam wrote:

              >> Everything I've read says that animals raised on family farms
              >> -- cows, chickens, pigs, everything -- really do taste better
              >> because they are raised in a fairly stress free environment.
              >> We should all look for our food raised with love and affection
              >
              > Crossbreeding them to want to be made a meal of could improve things
              > even more, it's been suggested (details below).
              >
              >
              >
              > Martin
              >
              > x x x
              >
              > From Douglas Adams, "The Restaurant at the End of the Universe."
              >
              > |
              > The waiter approached. "Would you like to see the menu?" he said,
              > "or would you like to meet the Dish of the Day?"
              >
              > "Huh?" said Ford.
              > "Huh?" said Arthur.
              > "Huh?" said Trillian.
              > "That's cool," said Zaphod, "we'll meet the meat."
              >
              > A large dairy animal approached Zaphod's table, a large fat meaty
              > quadruped of the bovine type with large watery eyes, small horns and
              > what might almost have been an ingratiating smile on its lips.
              >
              > "Good evening," it lowed and sat back heavily on its haunches, "I am
              > the main Dish of the Day. May I interest you in the parts of my
              > body?"
              >
              > It harrumphed and gurgled a bit, wriggled its hind quarters in to a
              > more comfortable position and gazed peacefully at them.
              >
              > Its gaze was met by looks of startled bewilderment from Arthur and
              > Trillian, a resigned shrug from Ford and naked hunger from Zaphod.
              >
              > "Something off the shoulder perhaps?" suggested the animal, "Braised
              > in a white wine sauce?"
              >
              > "Er, _your_ shoulder?" said Arthur in a horrified whisper.
              >
              > "But naturally my shoulder, sir," mooed the animal contentedly,
              > "nobody else's is mine to offer."
              >
              > Zaphod leaped to his feet and started prodding and feeling the
              > animal's shoulder appreciatively.
              >
              > "Or the rump is very good," murmured the animal. "I've been
              > exercising it and eating plenty of grain, so there's a lot of good
              > meat there."
              >
              > It gave a mellow grunt, gurgled again and started to chew the cud.
              > It swallowed the cud again.
              >
              > "Or a casselore of me perhaps?" it added.
              >
              > "That's absolutely horrible," exclaimed Arthur, "the most revolting
              > thing I've ever heard.'
              >
              > "What's the problem?" said Zaphod, now transferring his attention to
              > the animal's enormous rump.
              >
              > "I just don't want to eat an animal that's standing there inviting
              > me to," said Arthur, "It's heartless."
              >
              > "Better than eating an animal that doesn't want to be eaten," said
              > Zaphod.
              >
              > "That's not the point," Arthur protested. Then he thought about it
              > for a moment. "Alright," he said, "maybe it is the point. I don't
              > care, I'm not going to think about it now. I'll just... er... I
              > think I'll just have a green salad," he muttered.
              >
              > "May I urge you to consider my liver?" asked the animal, "it must be
              > very rich and tender by now, I've been force-feeding myself for
              > months."
              >
              > "A green salad," said Arthur emphatically.
              >
              > "A green salad?" said the animal, rolling his eyes disapprovingly at
              > Arthur.
              >
              > "Are you going to tell me," said Arthur, "that I shouldn't have
              > green salad?"
              >
              > "Well," said the animal, "I know many vegetables that are very clear
              > on that point. Which is why it was eventually decided to cut
              > through the whole tangled problem and breed an animal that actually
              > wanted to be eaten and was capable of saying so clearly and
              > distinctly. And here I am." It managed a very slight bow.
              >
              > "Glass of water please," said Arthur.
              >
              > "Look," said Zaphod, "we want to eat, we don't want to make a meal
              > of the issues. Four rare steaks please, and hurry."
              >
              > The animal staggered to its feet. It gave a mellow gurgle. "A very
              > wise choice, sir, if I may say so. Very good," it said, "I'll just
              > nip off and shoot myself."
              >
              > He turned and gave a friendly wink to Arthur. "Don't worry, sir,"
              > he said, "I'll be very humane."
              >
              > It waddled unhurriedly off to the kitchen.
              >
              >
              >
              > ------------------------------------
              >
              > Yahoo! Groups Links
              >
              >
              >
            • Ben Sorensen
              Gotta love Douglas Adams.... Ben ________________________________ From: Julie Michutka To: Slovak-World@yahoogroups.com Sent: Thu,
              Message 6 of 13 , Oct 1, 2010
                Gotta love Douglas Adams....
                Ben




                ________________________________
                From: Julie Michutka <jmm@...>
                To: Slovak-World@yahoogroups.com
                Sent: Thu, September 30, 2010 11:39:59 PM
                Subject: Re: [Slovak-World] Re: rabbit

                 
                Oy. A glass of water it is. *sigh*

                Julie

                On Sep 30, 2010, at 2:11 PM, votrubam wrote:

                >> Everything I've read says that animals raised on family farms
                >> -- cows, chickens, pigs, everything -- really do taste better
                >> because they are raised in a fairly stress free environment.
                >> We should all look for our food raised with love and affection
                >
                > Crossbreeding them to want to be made a meal of could improve things
                > even more, it's been suggested (details below).
                >
                >
                >
                > Martin
                >
                > x x x
                >
                > From Douglas Adams, "The Restaurant at the End of the Universe."
                >
                > |
                > The waiter approached. "Would you like to see the menu?" he said,
                > "or would you like to meet the Dish of the Day?"
                >
                > "Huh?" said Ford.
                > "Huh?" said Arthur.
                > "Huh?" said Trillian.
                > "That's cool," said Zaphod, "we'll meet the meat."
                >
                > A large dairy animal approached Zaphod's table, a large fat meaty
                > quadruped of the bovine type with large watery eyes, small horns and
                > what might almost have been an ingratiating smile on its lips.
                >
                > "Good evening," it lowed and sat back heavily on its haunches, "I am
                > the main Dish of the Day. May I interest you in the parts of my
                > body?"
                >
                > It harrumphed and gurgled a bit, wriggled its hind quarters in to a
                > more comfortable position and gazed peacefully at them.
                >
                > Its gaze was met by looks of startled bewilderment from Arthur and
                > Trillian, a resigned shrug from Ford and naked hunger from Zaphod.
                >
                > "Something off the shoulder perhaps?" suggested the animal, "Braised
                > in a white wine sauce?"
                >
                > "Er, _your_ shoulder?" said Arthur in a horrified whisper.
                >
                > "But naturally my shoulder, sir," mooed the animal contentedly,
                > "nobody else's is mine to offer."
                >
                > Zaphod leaped to his feet and started prodding and feeling the
                > animal's shoulder appreciatively.
                >
                > "Or the rump is very good," murmured the animal. "I've been
                > exercising it and eating plenty of grain, so there's a lot of good
                > meat there."
                >
                > It gave a mellow grunt, gurgled again and started to chew the cud.
                > It swallowed the cud again.
                >
                > "Or a casselore of me perhaps?" it added.
                >
                > "That's absolutely horrible," exclaimed Arthur, "the most revolting
                > thing I've ever heard.'
                >
                > "What's the problem?" said Zaphod, now transferring his attention to
                > the animal's enormous rump.
                >
                > "I just don't want to eat an animal that's standing there inviting
                > me to," said Arthur, "It's heartless."
                >
                > "Better than eating an animal that doesn't want to be eaten," said
                > Zaphod.
                >
                > "That's not the point," Arthur protested. Then he thought about it
                > for a moment. "Alright," he said, "maybe it is the point. I don't
                > care, I'm not going to think about it now. I'll just... er... I
                > think I'll just have a green salad," he muttered.
                >
                > "May I urge you to consider my liver?" asked the animal, "it must be
                > very rich and tender by now, I've been force-feeding myself for
                > months."
                >
                > "A green salad," said Arthur emphatically.
                >
                > "A green salad?" said the animal, rolling his eyes disapprovingly at
                > Arthur.
                >
                > "Are you going to tell me," said Arthur, "that I shouldn't have
                > green salad?"
                >
                > "Well," said the animal, "I know many vegetables that are very clear
                > on that point. Which is why it was eventually decided to cut
                > through the whole tangled problem and breed an animal that actually
                > wanted to be eaten and was capable of saying so clearly and
                > distinctly. And here I am." It managed a very slight bow.
                >
                > "Glass of water please," said Arthur.
                >
                > "Look," said Zaphod, "we want to eat, we don't want to make a meal
                > of the issues. Four rare steaks please, and hurry."
                >
                > The animal staggered to its feet. It gave a mellow gurgle. "A very
                > wise choice, sir, if I may say so. Very good," it said, "I'll just
                > nip off and shoot myself."
                >
                > He turned and gave a friendly wink to Arthur. "Don't worry, sir,"
                > he said, "I'll be very humane."
                >
                > It waddled unhurriedly off to the kitchen.
                >
                >
                >
                > ------------------------------------
                >
                > Yahoo! Groups Links
                >
                >
                >







                [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
              • Michelle Burke
                LOL!  (forgot this scene) ________________________________ From: votrubam To: Slovak-World@yahoogroups.com Sent: Thu, September 30, 2010
                Message 7 of 13 , Oct 1, 2010
                  LOL!  (forgot this scene)




                  ________________________________
                  From: votrubam <votrubam@...>
                  To: Slovak-World@yahoogroups.com
                  Sent: Thu, September 30, 2010 1:11:07 PM
                  Subject: [Slovak-World] Re: rabbit

                   
                  > Everything I've read says that animals raised on family farms
                  > -- cows, chickens, pigs, everything -- really do taste better
                  > because they are raised in a fairly stress free environment.
                  > We should all look for our food raised with love and affection

                  Crossbreeding them to want to be made a meal of could improve things even more,
                  it's been suggested (details below).

                  Martin

                  x x x

                  From Douglas Adams, "The Restaurant at the End of the Universe."

                  |
                  The waiter approached. "Would you like to see the menu?" he said, "or would you
                  like to meet the Dish of the Day?"

                  "Huh?" said Ford.
                  "Huh?" said Arthur.
                  "Huh?" said Trillian.
                  "That's cool," said Zaphod, "we'll meet the meat."

                  A large dairy animal approached Zaphod's table, a large fat meaty quadruped of
                  the bovine type with large watery eyes, small horns and what might almost have
                  been an ingratiating smile on its lips.

                  "Good evening," it lowed and sat back heavily on its haunches, "I am the main
                  Dish of the Day. May I interest you in the parts of my body?"

                  It harrumphed and gurgled a bit, wriggled its hind quarters in to a more
                  comfortable position and gazed peacefully at them.

                  Its gaze was met by looks of startled bewilderment from Arthur and Trillian, a
                  resigned shrug from Ford and naked hunger from Zaphod.

                  "Something off the shoulder perhaps?" suggested the animal, "Braised in a white
                  wine sauce?"

                  "Er, _your_ shoulder?" said Arthur in a horrified whisper.

                  "But naturally my shoulder, sir," mooed the animal contentedly, "nobody else's
                  is mine to offer."

                  Zaphod leaped to his feet and started prodding and feeling the animal's shoulder
                  appreciatively.

                  "Or the rump is very good," murmured the animal. "I've been exercising it and
                  eating plenty of grain, so there's a lot of good meat there."

                  It gave a mellow grunt, gurgled again and started to chew the cud. It swallowed
                  the cud again.

                  "Or a casselore of me perhaps?" it added.

                  "That's absolutely horrible," exclaimed Arthur, "the most revolting thing I've
                  ever heard.'

                  "What's the problem?" said Zaphod, now transferring his attention to the
                  animal's enormous rump.

                  "I just don't want to eat an animal that's standing there inviting me to," said
                  Arthur, "It's heartless."

                  "Better than eating an animal that doesn't want to be eaten," said Zaphod.

                  "That's not the point," Arthur protested. Then he thought about it for a moment.
                  "Alright," he said, "maybe it is the point. I don't care, I'm not going to think
                  about it now. I'll just... er... I think I'll just have a green salad," he
                  muttered.

                  "May I urge you to consider my liver?" asked the animal, "it must be very rich
                  and tender by now, I've been force-feeding myself for months."

                  "A green salad," said Arthur emphatically.

                  "A green salad?" said the animal, rolling his eyes disapprovingly at Arthur.

                  "Are you going to tell me," said Arthur, "that I shouldn't have green salad?"

                  "Well," said the animal, "I know many vegetables that are very clear on that
                  point. Which is why it was eventually decided to cut through the whole tangled
                  problem and breed an animal that actually wanted to be eaten and was capable of
                  saying so clearly and distinctly. And here I am." It managed a very slight bow.

                  "Glass of water please," said Arthur.

                  "Look," said Zaphod, "we want to eat, we don't want to make a meal of the
                  issues. Four rare steaks please, and hurry."

                  The animal staggered to its feet. It gave a mellow gurgle. "A very wise choice,
                  sir, if I may say so. Very good," it said, "I'll just nip off and shoot myself."

                  He turned and gave a friendly wink to Arthur. "Don't worry, sir," he said, "I'll
                  be very humane."

                  It waddled unhurriedly off to the kitchen.




                  [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
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