MMmmm...Mmmmm...Sanitation

As my Scottish friend, Ian (shout out!), so eagerly pointed out, I've been on quite the emotional roller coaster recently. So, I decided I would get off the Debbie Downer track and go onto the, "Aren't You Glad You Have Sanitation Laws?" track. This'll be fun!

Around here you get all of your produce and meat right down the street. Since everything is so fresh, you just kind of go to stands and butchers a couple times a week instead of once every couple of weeks (like you would do at home). I actually really like this and have gotten some what used to it. However, I don't think I will ever get used to the butcher here!

The reason we go to this one, as opposed to others, is because 1. he's down the street and 2. he actually has a refrigerator that he uses to put his meat in...sometimes. Just to give you a glimpse into a weekly meat shop experience, I thought I would take you through the first time I went to get chicken (and basically every time).

Stephanie walks in to EXTREMELY small and warm butcher shop at the end of the day. Butcher has nice pants and shirt on (points), but where is his apron? He is slicing a massive piece of lamb that's hanging from a hook in the middle of the room (normal-ish) with his bare hands (not so normal). So he's going after this meat (grossing me out already), using all of these different knives, and putting in on the scales. He wraps up the meat, hands it to the person ahead of me, and asks me what I want.

"Chicken. 3 Chicken breasts."

Great! So he wipes his hands on his shirt (gross), uses the sames knives that he used on the lamb on the chicken (oh yeah. that's what I like.), places the on the already REALLY bloody scale (yum), then places it on a equally bloody wood table (ugh! Salmonella), and wraps it up. It is then that I ask myself the question, "why aren't there any sinks in this room?" (nervous whimper)

"33 shekles."

OK. I hand him a 100 shekle paper note. He reaches into his pocket with his very bloody hands and pulls out a wad of cash and hands me my bloody change (appetizing!). I walk out and die a little while my friend says, "well, it COULD be worse!" Yes. But not by much.

Maybe you guys aren't as grossed out as I am every time I get meat there, but I GUARANTEE that if you were here, you would AT LEAST cringe...even the littlest bit!