I met a bunch of Twiter buds for the first time the other night and mentioned I was picking up parking lot meat. LOL!!! It is fairly entertaining to joke about picking up meat in a former Albertson’s parking lot on the St. Mary’s strip. In fact, this was completely legit grass fed beef direct from the rancher. Alan even drove it to town.
I grew up in Washington State and my grandparents often pastured cows belonging to local farmers for finishing over the summer. I remember being about three years old and pulling up my home to see a few cows we were keeping. And yeah, I think I ate one that winter even though I knew its name. That was probably the year my parents could no longer distract me with hot dogs. Mom started giving me the little piece of her t-bone. Mmmmm hmm yes indeed!!! The Filet. Years later she found out she had been giving me the best part!!!
It seems I am constantly moving back to the way my grandparents ate and the way I ate growing up. A few weeks ago one of my buddies was looking for someone to split a box of meat. I took a peek at the website.
Enough people joined in that she only needed someone to fill in about 10 pounds. Check out this selection….how could I choose? In fact I had a difficult time choosing so I ordered a variety pack all by myself. I did consult my husband first, and he said, “Please!”
I placed the order and arrived at the designated time and place to meet the rancher. With a shake of a hand and payment a box of meat was loaded into my van. Morgie (age 3) was with me. Hopefully she will remember this. Mom picking up meat. I remember being little and picking up farm-fresh eggs or visiting my great-uncle’s dairy farm. We will do that too….oh and a friend dropped off a gallon of fresh raw milk last week. Mmmmm
Oh right. Back to the meat.
I am thankful.