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Hunting down your main course

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by Amber Hildebrandt, CBCNews.ca

The locavore trend appears to have taken a bloodthirsty turn — into the realm of hunting and slaughtering animals.

Perhaps it was inevitable that the interest in city and rural foraging would translate into some going a step further to tracking or butchering our prey.

I first read an article in the online magazine Slate.com titled There will be chicken blood, in which the author describes in numbing detail killing her backyard chickens. She portrays the slaughters as an inevitable part of the growing popularity of city chicken coops not normally touched upon.

"It's not easy to swing the ax, but I do," writes L.E. Leone. "Then I kneel in the dirt, holding the body still while it flutters, and hyperventilate."

Then in Wednesday's edition of the Toronto Star, food editor Kim Honey, took readers on a perhaps unwelcome journey through a cooking demonstration that involved killing a "fluffy bunny" with "blond fur and little black eyes" as part of a piece on wild edibles.

"It was cute, but I wanted to eat it," she writes of the rabbit. She then goes into her failed attempt to kill it with a blow to the head, passing the duty on to someone else.

A litany of caustic comments poured into the newspaper following the piece's publication.

Is it awful that I snickered a bit at the ridiculousness of it all — this urban writer clutching a rabbit in her arms before gutting it after the kill? I applauded a little inside.

Until now, the locavore and 100-mile diet has inspired interest in plants formerly known as weeds and all that grows around us, whether in the urban jungle or the wild. But it was just a matter of time before those foraging for berries would take the next step.

A few blogs have appeared providing slaughter tutorials, such as How to Butcher a Chicken, or focusing on the gourmet recipes resulting from the catch, such as Hunter Angler Gardener Cook.

Though I don't think the experience is for everyone, it gives a newfound appreciation for meat beyond the styrofoam packages in a grocery aisle.

Sure, the reality of it may be enough to turn people to vegetarianism, temporarily or long term. I remember being on the edge of a no-meat lifestyle when I was growing up on the farm.

After a cow was butchered, the dismembered head would be left upright on the ground by the bale shed. Nearby were the innards. Inside the kitchen sink, the bloody liver would soak in water until it was time to cook supper.

I will admit that other than fish I never watched the killing, nor performed it. And perhaps that was my loss. I would have learned something unforgettable about how intricately I am tied to the animals that feed me.

Perhaps it's time to learn a few skills from my farmer father. At the very least, I plan to get my hands scaly and fillet a pickerel this summer.

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