My Apologies to Mr. Ed

Long story short. Looking for sausage. Get your head out of the frick fracking gutter. The spicy kind. For pasta. I know enough French to recognize words like miel, and I don't want no damn honey in my meat. And all the sausages were a weird pale hue. So I grabbed the thing that looked closest to chørizo and decided to go with it. Dinner was looking good, until I noticed the lable on the meat package. Viende Chevaline. Ummm....familiar. So I freetranslation.com'd it. Sure enough.....equine meat! Ewwwwwwwwwww! I was so grossed out. I love horses. I was obsessed as a child. I vowed never to eat them. I felt terrible. Until I thought about it a bit. Has a cow ever bitten, chased, kicked or thrown me over a fence. No. Has a horse? Several of them. My bias is so unfair. Not that I'm going to be buying it again, it was sort of light and fluffy, but I feel a little less bad about it. Though I will take a French buddy or a French/English dictionary with me next time I sausage shop.

Oh, a little late, but birthday shout outs to our best hope for a skating medal in 2010. Toby, you are in my wallet. For always. Get James to give you a hug for me. Happy Birthday Duder!!!!! XXOOXXOO