Where do you take a sick horse? Horsepital or the local restaurant?

You just couldn't could you?

The talk of the steamie last weekend in Edinburgh was that L’Escargot Bleu in Edinburgh’s Broughton Street are going to start serving horse and no I don’t mean inviting the odd horse to pull up a chair, enjoy an aperetif and a canape.
No Edinburgh’s most authentic French Restaurant is testing the boundaries of the Scots palate and introducing horse  to their menu. The gauntlet is down, well how do you carve horse with your gauntlets on? And rather than tuck it away in a stew or serve it as a steak the proprietor has plumped for the rather radical sounding horse tartare.

Definition of Tartare: a dish of coursely ground or finely chopped high quality raw lean horse that has been seasoned with salt, capers, onions and the tears of every pre-pubescent girl in Scotland (and my Auntie Joyce)

Raw horse. God the thought of taking your kids to pony club developing a long and loving relationship with a beast then when the going gets tough, or before it’s flanks get too tough, hell just shoot it and eat it just seems so wrong.

He's obviously heard the news

The arguments are valid. I eat cow. I eat pig. I eat lamb – aka baby sheep. It’s all true which is why I can’t quite understand the revulsion I feel that Dobbin local horse with long eyelashes, swishy tale and a personality is coming to a plate near me. Black Beauty, Thelwell, National Velvet they are icons of childhood and affection. I can’t recall one story in which a cow or sheep took a leading role. Babe was of course a world wide pig star and for some reason, despite the fact pigs are generally credited with being  more intelligent than dogs, I have no qualms about slapping them between to bits of bread and having them for breakfast. I know where this going. I am of course a hypocrite.

Def. of hypocrite:a person who pretends to have virtues, moral or religious beliefs, principles, etc., that he or she does not actually possess, esp. a person whose actions belie stated beliefs.

Yup. Guilty as charged as this picture below illustrates. Fed it, cuddled it, gave it a name. Ate it. Och well. Damn it tasted good though.

Pal Jennys pig. Now in the freezer. Bless.

AlisonsDiary

Writer & broadcaster.

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