As I was making lunch today, I discovered something
horrifying.
In an attempt to be healthier and more conscious about what
I put into my body, during our latest shopping trip, I picked up some turkey
breakfast sausage. Usually I buy the pork kind that’s squeezed into a plastic
tube with a horrific “bumpkin” stereotype or a pig that is all too happy to be
on a sausage label. This one instead, with the promises of a healthier option,
had a picture of a smiling lady who was obviously all too happy to be eating
her turkey breakfast sausage.
Now when I cook breakfast sausage, it is generally going
into soup because it is fantastic in potato soup. Sometimes I’ll cook some up
and throw some sesame green beans on it and pile it all over some rice, which
makes for a filling dinner for broke college students. Today’s lunch, the sausage was destined for
some delicious potato soup.
I started the process as I normally do: put the water on to
boil, put the skillet on to heat up, start cutting up the frozen log of
breakfast sausage to cook and the cut up some potatoes. I did everything like I
normally do, including cutting the frozen meat in half. I don’t need a whole
tube of sausage for a few bowls of soup. What am I? An animal?
It wasn’t until I started cooking the sausage that I noticed
something off.
Really off.
Like, green off.
It was green. Literally green. I’m used to some unnatural
pallor when dealing with processed meat products but this was to the point of
looking unhealthy. There was no odd smell though and since I’d never cooked
turkey sausage, I just presumed that it was supposed to be that color.
I continued to try to brown the sausage as I prepared other
bits of my soup. I then moved the sausage to a plate so I could try to use what
very, very little fat was left to sauté my onions. I ended up just adding a
bunch of olive oil.
As I was transferring my unbrownable sausage to the plate,
two pieces fell onto the floor. I thought that this was the perfect time to
test the healthiness of this sausage. I have two cats, both of which enjoy
eating small bits of meat when we give them some.
Pebble turned her nose up at the piece that I had put on the
floor in front of her. This wasn’t a surprise though; she’s a pretty picky puss
so I wasn’t to shocked when she decided not to try the turkey sausage.
William nommed his piece of turkey sausage before I could
leave the room. This also does not surprise me. He was abandoned and found by a
woman in my knitting group who runs a cat rescue. We took him in after saying
for months that we wanted a second cat. When William was found, he was eating
trash so him eating a questionable bit of sausage also was not surprising.
And then I tried some. I figured the cat did so I should
probably try it too since it was going to go into my soup soon.
I've never eaten rotten hair before, the pile of hair and conditioner that sits in your drain for weeks, but I think I now know what it tastes like.
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Knitting today: The vest. Not a noticeable amount though.
