If you and I are ever on a deserted island and you're waiting for me to kill something so that we can eat, you’ve got a problem. I can cook and eat it, just don’t expect me to kill it. This stems from a childhood experience of befriending “Chester the Rabbit”, and then a couple of weeks later seeing him get killed for Sunday dinner. Although that didn’t turn me into a vegetarian, it put me off from the desire to kill my own meat.
This semester I was forced to revisit this experience when; I was given a live lobster and asked to make lobster bisque.
I was tempted to say, it was against my religion to kill living creatures, but after a brief but intense internal dialogue, I decided to address the issue head on. After watching the demo on the variety of humane ways to kill a lobster, I went back to my workstations to start working on the bisque.
I chose to stick my lobster in the freezer for 20 minutes, to make it drowsy, before I plunged it into a pot of hot water. I’m not sure if all would agree that it’s the most humane way, but it seemed a lot more humane that sticking a knife through the poor lobster’s brain.
As “Lobby” the lobster was nearing the end of his chill time, I looked around and realized that none of my 25 classmates seemed to struggling with the prospect of ending the lobster's life. All around me lobsters were being killed, chopped and prepped for the meal ahead. I leaned over the table and asked my friend Ally if she’d help me with “Lobby”.
With one eyebrow raised, she said – “Rhonda, haven’t you heard that you should NEVER name the food you intend to kill.” I stood at the stove and watched Ally plunge "Lobby" into the boiling water, I had an overwhelming sense of déjà vu because that was the same thing (verbatim) that Olive told me about Chester.
I see you Olive, and I love that you show up when i least expect it and give me messages! One love!
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