Andrew Kay: Hunter Gatherer

Sticking the knife in

Last year I wrote about hunting, or should I say, I went into the countryside and was allowed to fire a gun. I came away with no desire to do it again whatsoever.
I think I came away though with a greater understanding of the role that guns have in country life – I hope so.
I’m no fan of hunting or blood sports, far from it. I chat almost nightly to the fox that lives in my street and wish it no harm, it’s a very beautiful beast that here in an urban environment I can see does little harm, if any.

I do remember well though, staying with my brother in the Welsh borders in a very remote cottage and seeing the devastation that the fox had caused to his chickens and ducks – and being shocked by the wanton waste. The fox had not killed for need, taking one for food, but had killed and left behind the carnage of its night’s activity. I resist calling it sport and I resist calling anything that involves killing or the spilling of blood a sport. I will stand up and be counted once again if the current government tries to repeal the ban on hunting – it is quite simply barbaric and those who take part should at least be threatened with being thrown to the lions to see how they like it.
All this I believe – but it does leave me in a quandary when it comes to being an omnivore. I eat meat and fish with a great deal of pleasure. These days I eat less and the meat and fish that I choose to buy is of a higher quality and far more ethical provenance. I support organic farming wholeheartedly and have found that in doing so the produce that I choose is, on the whole, tastier.
I am still though, a meat-eater, and for me to be that it means that a beast has to forfeit its life. I have therefore to do so with respect, and I have also to respect those people who rear and care for and finally deal with the despatch of an animal into the food chain.

I have said before that my grandfather was a butcher who for his era had a not uncommon holistic approach to meat. After the austerity of the war and hard rationing here in the UK it was not unusual for every part of an animal to be used, from hooves and bones and hide, to the meats and offal. I grew up eating a lot of offal and despite it being bad for my gout I eat a fair amount still.
I was thrilled at the spring food festival when chef Michael Bremner and Sam from 64 Degrees brought along ox heart and ox tongue to demonstrate – and I was equally thrilled at how the audience embraced this and loved how it tasted. They were the tastes of my childhood, rich and unctuous in texture – simply delicious – and respectful.
Not that you will find them that easily, offal is a rare thing in a supermarket, sadly, and it does make me wonder where it all goes.
If we choose to eat meat then we must first face up to the full story. Am I prepared to accept the whole process? Am I comfortable delegating the rearing and subsequent killing of animals for the table? Do, as a consequence, I support farmers and farming?
I have to say that I do, that it is my choice and one that I do not make lightly.
In a way we are all hunters, searching for the food that we eat. The difference is that for some hunting for food involves guns and knives and spears and traps and rods and lines and nets – and for the rest of us, well our weapon of choice is the supermarket.