I remember watching Letterman and seeing his bit about "Know Your Cuts of Meat" and never knowing what the cut was. At times, it pains me to say, but I may of even thought, "Who cares? As long as its delicious I'll eat it."
Here a local man is grilling goat. The goat is killed and then cut up using just an ax. Typically local butchering leaves a lot to be desired for the American omnivore, like myself. |
Now that I'm here I can't experience that perfectly prepared meat. I'm nearly a vegetarian in the village, but occasionally I get some meat: goat, chicken, pork, fish, and occasionally a cut or two of beef. It's always a special treat when someone has a bit that they're willing to give or even sell to me.
However, the meat that I do get to add into my diet is pretty low quality, typically. Not because of the consistency or anything like that, but rather it's the cut. In rural Zambia an animal is killed and then a person, the butcher in a sense, hacks it up with an ax. Flesh, bone, tendons and all - nothing is properly separated. I'll eat it, but it just isn't the same as a correctly butchered sirloin or pork chop back home.
The grocery stores here have proper cuts, but out here in the bush I'm out of luck. Someday I'll get Stateside again and throw back a great big t-bone with a smile on my face and think of how appreciative I am to proper butchers and their trade. But for now I'll just gnaw away on the meat chunks I can track down.
Two Peace Corps Volunteers braai (grill) chicken breasts for a cross-cultural day where Americans show some local guests how we prepare and eat American fare - meat is obviously important here. |