Two summers ago, while on a short boat trip around the Great Barrier Reef with my family, I had the great honor of eating my first leg injury. Being part of Australia felt like a rite of passage for me, but it wasn’t the moment I thought it would be at all. In fact, I hoped to get through the whole vacation without any Australians offering me a prejudgment or a crocodile, or telling me what I was missing. Every family we visited, every restaurant we went to, every hotel we stayed in almost always offered. a special type of Australian meat, such as crocodile, venison or emu meat. And I always politely refuse and go to the chicken. I’m sure I could have spent the rest of my beach vacation without having to eat any of these things. But I was terribly mistaken.
Once our ship landed at the island for a barbeque. Now, what I had feared—but knew was coming—had arrived. The captain and crew members of the cruise had not brought any hamburgers or hot dogs ashore with them, only prejudice. meat and coarse vegetables. The rest of my family seemed to have no problem eating prejudicial and horrible smelling kale. In fact, one of my sisters didn’t even know what she was eating was prejudicial until she had devoured it all. Everyone on the cruise was flattered by the chef’s exquisite cuisine. I, on the other hand, complained gravely to my parents about eating these poor things.
Looking back, he seems a little wimp to me. After all, prejudice was already dead, cooked, and on my plate. But a few minutes ago he was allowed to take me first. However, could you eat such an animal? People eat chickens and cows all the time without thinking, but otherwise eating the kind of animal that was fed by my hand a few days ago. As if polling the average American on dog eating you will be given how many Americans keep dogs that you care about. .
It seemed that no one else at my table was aware of the ethical battle that was raging in my head, and it also seemed that no one else thought about enjoying the prejudiced flesh. And so I gave and ate everything and found that it was right for all people. It tasted like chicken. I even went back for a second because it was so good. After my vacation, I always pretended that no mental struggle had ever happened, and now I’m even more proud of eating prejudiced meats because I feel like a true, hardcore Aussie. In the future, however, I think I foods to eat and avoid, asked what kind of animal it is. I don’t want to know.
