Stone Barns Wonders if You'd Like to See Where Your Meat Comes From
My grandparents both grew up on farms in Minnesota during the Depression and I have never seen either one return a plate to the sink with a single morsel of food left on it. When I asked my grandfather about their penchant for consuming every single crumb, he told me that growing up so poor and having to grow his own food taught him to appreciate the hard work it took someone to deliver what was on his plate and that not consuming what he made the choice in the beginning to eat was a sign of disrespect. He went on to say that he wished every meat eater would be able to experience an animal slaughter at least once in their lives because it would teach them to respect and make a connection to the sacrifice the animal they are eating made for them. While I have never been to a slaughterhouse, my grandfather did invite me to watch him butcher the deer he brought home from the fields each season and while I initially bore reluctant witness, I still remember the epiphany I had as a young girl as I ate our venison sausage and connected it to the deer in my grandfather's garage. It was in gratitude and respect then that I ate my venison and I would have never understood and appreciated the sacrifice this animal made for me had I not witnessed this deer's journey from the field to my plate.

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