It’s Baaad for You

Well, baaad for me, really.

I don’t eat lamb. Maybe it’s the remembered woolly taste of mutton from my childhood home.  As an adult, I’ve tried to be fair, sampling rack of lamb prepared by excellent American cooks, and organic New Zealand lamb prepared by excellent Canadian cooks.

You won’t even know it’s lamb.

Well, I always did know. And I don’t eat lamb.

No, not even in a stew or curry, with spices allegedly overpowering its taste.  No, not even the Icelandic variety which, so they said, was so good it didn’t taste like lamb.  There’s something wrong with a food that you have to sell as not tasting like itself.

I don’t eat lamb.  No, not even from the famous hot dog stand in downtown Reykjavik with combined beef/pork/lamb weiners where, they assured me, I wouldn’t even taste the lamb.

I did.

And I don’t eat lamb.

But I do take picture of lambs and former lambs.  These are from the Shetlands.

3 views of sheep and lambs in the Shetlands

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6 Comments

  1. An aunt and uncle raised lambs for a while, the skins of which were destined to become fur coats. When I gradually processed this information with my child-brain a kind of horror lodged there that remains. I’m with you in the lamb department.

  2. Jim Taylor

    Your pictures remind me of a trip to Ireland, the first time we had taken our daughter there. On one of those Irish days when the fog, rain, and mist were indistinguishable, our daughter looked out the window of the car and asked, “What are those fuzzy looking rocks in that field?” Right then one of the “rocks” stood up and shook itself. It was, of course, a sheep.
    She laughed for almost ten minutes. I think she had thought of sheep as being like lambs in a petting zoo.
    Jim T

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