Horse for Lunch

HorseFor those of you from the great state of denial, I don’t have a friend named Horse, and I did not set another place at the table for a horse.  When I write that I had horse for lunch, I mean that I had horse for lunch.  My friend brought in a plate for me, and I was very humbled by his thoughtfulness.  It looked and tasted almost exactly like Roast Beef that your mom made for Sunday dinner, but it was a little different.  Not bad at all.  And I was assured that this was no plow horse, but a yearling that was very tender.  I was asked if I liked the taste, and I said that it was very good.  “Yes, that is why we eat them,” was the reply I got.

Posted in Dave/Ann Blog.


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