I recently enjoyed a nice dinner at an upscale restaurant with a somewhat famous chef. To help us make dinner selections, our server, a polite and professional man named Collin, did a fantastic job of explaining the menu and special items that the chef had prepared for the evening. One item that was available was a special trout that was supposed to be a wonderful treat. “The chef serves the fish intact, but I’ll be happy to make arrangements to have the head removed if that is more to your liking,” said Collin. I thought to myself “Finally! Someone gets me!”
I don’t care to eat food with a face. My father used to love to take us fishing on our family camping trips. He’d cook what we caught and try to make us eat it. I would think of any excuse that I could to keep from eating those bony little fish. I knew what their faces looked like. I feel the same way about lobsters when I see them in a tank at the supermarket or in a restaurant. They LOOK at me and then I can’t eat them. We keep chickens at home and enjoy fresh eggs all the time, but I could NEVER eat one of “the girls” because I know them … I’ve seen their faces. And there is absolutely no way that anyone will be able to get me to eat calamari unless it’s prepared to look like little onion rings instead of little sea creatures.
Needless to say, there won’t be any Bun(nies) in my oven this Easter. I’m sure that rabbit-shaped bread looks cute on a dinner table and that youngsters probably get a big kick out of it, but I’ll have nothing to do with of it.