So the other night I was sitting at my desk, eating my two-piece dark meat special after a hard evening of note-taking on alternative energy sources and economic development firms, when I actually offended myself by saying something heinous. For dramatic pause, I'll direct you to the picture of a delicous chicken leg, posted here after much web-searching effort. Like you can't see it hanging out over there. By golly, it's more like a turkey leg! I love Photoshop...
Anyhoo, a boss and I got to batting back and forth weather chicken itself doesn't really taste like much of anything unless it's coated in spices and/or breading, and fried. The boss contends that you can taste the difference between free-range, wild and, well, the less fortunates from factory farms that we figure are probably used at most restaurants and that most of us (like me) buy at the grocery.
And then I said it. "This may be the only time this chicken leg has gotten used," I said, hopping it across my desk. I paused in thought and then scowled. "Wow, I just offended myself!" I proclaimed. "I don't know if I can eat this now." The boss chimed in that he'd eat it. But I forged ahead for the sake of hunger.
It's not the first time the topic of livestock treatment has arisen with me lately. The Spouse and I have debated Issue 2, which, if passed, would change Ohio's constitution to form an oversight board. The Humane Society is, of course, contending that the people who need oversight shouldn't be overseeing themselves. The Spouse contends that animals we'll eventually eat shouldn't necessarily be tucked in at night and read a bedtime story, unlike our cat, who still jumps up and bites our feet hanging over the bed in the middle of the night (ungrateful feline). As long as they the food doesn't make us sick, then what's the big deal, some say. I like the idea of a chicken being able to run and peck at the ground instead, to get some enjoyment out of his or her short life. But I'm still myopic in that I'm not exactly forking over the dough for any of those birds yet.