Let's Get to the Meat of It!

The bloody truth is that we love meat. Not just any meat, tho'. In fact, we rarely buy chicken. My hub only likes it fried, and everyone knows how unhealthy that "southern fried batter" can be. So we limit our indulgence to Popeye's or Market Basket's (better than Popeye's!!) fried chicken to only a couple of times a year. 

And, no, I do not like dried out chicken breasts. The only way to make those taste like anything edible is to smother them in a delicious gravy or sauce. So chicken is OUT! And we won't even discuss turkey.

My hub is from a meat eating and meat processing background. His paternal grandfather owned pork meat processing plants that distributed to England and Germany before World War I and also World War II. So meat on the table was never an issue. After Opa retired from the meat industry, the meat kept coming to the family. Once a week the family would receive a huge box of meat products from another meat supplier, and my FIL and his older sister would share the contents. Tante Z. lived far away, but her share was always sent to her by mail. Their other sister lived really far away in Indonesia, so mailing her share to her was out of the question. As Opa lived with my hub's family, I always wondered how they divided up the packages.

Let's get to the "meat" of this post. We are NOT eating ham or turkey this Christmas dinner. And, no, not goose or venison like in Scrooge's time. 

Today I ordered a standing rib roast from a real butcher. 

On Christmas Day, no one can ask, "Where's the Meat?"