I’ve been avoiding beef. Not just living cows, who have always seemed to have a moosical sixth sense that I’m a violist and either dash away leaving in their trail a Curious Cowbell Symphony, or dash at me in some attempt to gain a knighthood at the achievement of ridding the world of a violist, under the credo “If Bill Gates got one, so can I”.
This is for several reasons: one being that beef is less popular in Thailand to begin with, two, that the word for beef in Thai (actually two words) requires tongue calisthenics, and three… Trying to recall who told me that well, cows have a raw deal, unlike other animals who either work for humans or end up at human chow, cows are often both. And a footnote of trivia is that episode of Oprah which left her with a lawsuit by the US cattle industry.
Another like footnote is the curiosity of whether the new Charlie and the Chocolate Factory movie (with Johnny Depp as Willie Wonka), will actually show Chocolate Cows from which milk chocolate is produced.
The salad craze seems ongoing, with separate experimentations with Italian dressing, Thousand Island and mayonnaise, delivered OF COURSE while keeping in mind the artistic balance of colors and textures of the mix and the musical elements of how the various saladic factors would crunch, producing a rather metrosexually-inclined salad, (which would actually then require French dressing instead) with me remaining simply a gentleman of culture.