Home > Back in the Day > I wanna be a veal cow

I wanna be a veal cow

I just licked my screen

I was sent a link today that I thought was pretty interesting. High Point Farms came up with the idea of selling shares of actual animals, livestock. I was intrigued that a farm would come up with such an idea, but I guess it could work. They already sell vegetable shares that deliver once a week for 1, 3, 6, and 12 month increments, so why not moo beef? I personally dont know if its worth the money, but I figured I would throw it out there for the masses to review.

While on the topic of heffers, Nick, Michelle and I relived one of the funniest stories I can recall from my childhood. So funny in fact, Michelle told her mom. I hope it keeps spreading, and more importantly I hope this story now lives up to the hype I have created.

Growing up, I lived in a small town that had farms on its outskirts. I did not live on a farm, but visited one every now and then when playing with my cousins. My great aunt has a farm, my grandmother had a farm, my mom along with her brothers and sisters was raised on a farm…you get the picture. I have some farmer in me some where. Dont let that change your opinion of how awesome I am. Im sure it actually contributes to my awesomeness.

Either way, I am well versed in farms and as a young boy I was very inquisitive. So much so that my mother probably hated taking me anywhere bc I was filled with a thirst for knowledge. I am STILL thirsty, but Ive given up knowledge for the harder stuff like Oban whisky. One of the stories I remember most, was my mother’s explanation of the igloos you see on some dairy farms. For those of you city folk that dont know what I am talking about, some farms have these small igloos only big enough for a baby calf to stay in. The really look like legit eskimo igloos right outside the barn. This is where veal calves are kept.

When I asked, “Mom what are those igloos for?” She replied, “they are for the veal calves.” Not knowing what veal was, “what’s veal?” Mom explains that it is the meat from those baby calves. I was horrified almost to the point of tears. “What do you mean? People eat baby cows? NOT BABY COWS! What monsters would eat baby cows?” Noticing how distraught I was over this news my mother replies, “Well those baby cows live a great life in the igloo. They dont have to move, the farmers wait on them hand and foot like royalty and best of all…those baby cows only eat strawberry pies. (explanation, I love pies. Pies of all types. I mean I really love pies to the point where I cant be around them because I might cheat on my girlfriend for pies. I mean Ive never met a pie I didnt like or couldnt handle in one sitting. My favorite during the time of this story happened to be strawberry.) “Holy shit!” I replied, not really but if I was old enough to say it, I would have. “You mean to tell me, these king cows sleep all day, dont have to do any work, AND get fed strawberry pies all their lives? I wanna be a veal cow.”

Years later I would find out how they are really treated and I would be appalled. I have only ever had a bite of veal just to say I tried it. Im not hear to raise a debate on how they are treated or how yummy they are, Im just saying. Every time I see veal on the menu, someone mentions a veal parm, or we talk about the communal habits of the Inuit Eskimos, I wander back in time. Back in time to a better place. A place where veal cows are rulers of their majestic plastic, igloo kingdoms and command strawberry pies for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I cannot wait to give this same explanation to my kids.

Categories: Back in the Day Tags: , , ,
  1. Dmitry
    February 5, 2011 at 23:45

    Great article. It’s appalling how people can “enjoy” something without knowing or shutting their mind to how that comes about. I live in NZ, and a nice lonely female calf was mooing its head off in a paddock close to where I live – I checked out if it in distress or hot (the sun is really scorching right now), but she just appears to be in the mood (I hope). Came across this by googling “cows live out their lives”. Occasionally some do, but it doesn’t seem fair that most don’t.

    • February 7, 2011 at 12:24

      Im glad you could find my ramblings amusing and you are the only person in NZ that has read my blog (I cant confirm that fact, but it sounded good). It is sad that people dont stop to think about where their food comes from, but luckily films like “Food Inc.” are changing perspectives and educating those who want to know.

  1. November 29, 2010 at 09:51

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