Scott Feschuk feels guilty.

I feel guilty. I feel guilty about eating this steak. Did the cow have a good life? Did it experience a series of wacky cow adventures? When the time came, I hope the farmer gently held its hoof and whispered, “There, there.” In future, can I pay extra to make this happen? (I can see the sticker now: “Organic, pasture-fed, lovingly consoled.”)I feel guilty about meat in general. I see pigs in those trucks on the highway and I feel guilty. I see pigs in a blanket and I feel guilty, and then hungry, and then guilty for feeling hungry. I see a plate of veal and I feel guilty that we didn’t let the little baby calf grow up to be penned in, force-fed slurry and slaughtered, as nature intended.

I also feel guilty I didn’t get the strip loin. The strip loin never disappoints.


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