Sunday, December 4, 2011

Horse - It's what's for Dinner

Mack Hall, HSG Mhall46184@aol.com

Horse – It’s what’s for Dinner

It hath behooved – hooved, get it? -- our current government to auto-pen an edict permitting once again the sale of horse meat for human consumption.  For all of us who have been whinnying about Washington compromising the economy through oppressive regulations, let us at least be grateful that we will have more to eat this Christmas.

Horse – well, it’s probably tastier than a baked Alaskan.

Will menus soon offer palomino ‘n’ potatoes, or maybe chipped mare on toast?  Pinto beans and real pinto – yum! But the FDA will have to determine if horsemeat is a staple diet or a stable diet.

Whoever thought that Dale Evans’ mare Buttermilk would someday be served with buttermilk, or that Seabiscuit would appear on a plate next to a biscuit!   Trigger is now part of that famous complete, nutritious breakfast, and Gene Autry’s Champion is the breakfast of champions.

With our government’s decision that Tonka may be served as a main course – or mane course -- the remakes of classic horse movies and television shows may not be to our (ahem) taste:

Justin Morgan had a Horse for Lunch.
The Horse Cookerer
The Miracle Whip of the White Stallions
Blackened Beauty
Smoky the Smoked Cowhorse
Fury – the Story of an Horse D’oeuvre, and the Boy Who Ate Him
Hidalgo to Go
The Pony Expresso
My Meal Trigger
Lunchy of Chincoteague
My Food Flicka
The Blackened Stallion
National Velvet Cake
Mr. Ed a la Milanaise
They Died With Their Horseshoes On
The Appaloosa Appetizer
My Little Petit Fours Pony
Brighty of the Grand Cutlet
The Saddle Club Sandwich
The Flame-Broiled of Araby
The Horsemaster Chefs
Fried of Kentucky

No, it just won’t do.  We Americans bond as strongly with our horses we do with our dogs and cats, and we do not bake our beagles or cook our kitties. 

The horse is a noble animal, brave and strong and fiercely loyal, not unlike a dachshund, only much larger.  Since we eat cows and birds and sheep, balking at dining on Dobbin might appear to be somewhat illogical.  Even so, to kill and cook an animal who for thousands of years has served humanity in war and peace, in fields and streets, carrying us and our dreams, seems to be a degradation of civilization.  Our ideals are the Crusader knight and the American cowboy, brave and good, each on his great horse.  We do not admire cannibals, not even the ideological ones.



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