Eating a Lamb Chop

I was never raised eating lamb. Silence of the Lambs was my favorite film in sixth grade. I was so moved by the theme of the film—how she just wanted to save one screaming lamb from the slaughter. I was vegetarian from age sixteen to twenty-four. While I was catering in New York City, I saw a sheet of filet mignon being thrown in the trash and I thought, “Who am I saving?” It was then and there I started eating lamb.

I had thrown a lamb chop in the oven this morning to eat at lunch. I went to the school cafeteria where my teacher’s assistant was sitting. I asked if I could join her. She said how fancy a lamb chop seemed. I thought to myself—the ironic thing is, a plastic knife and fork isn’t going to cut it to eat this lamb chop. I am going to have to eat it like a turkey leg. Very barbaric and primitive when you are sitting with your teacher’s assistant for the first time for a meal.

As I tore into the flesh of my chop, I daintily tried to ask her how the tutoring went with our special ed students. One of the young men lost both of his parents this past year and takes care of his younger brother. He is a conscientious student, a football player, and yet, a bit of a lost lamb.

There is still that part of me that wants to save one lamb. There is now a part of me that has a taste for the finer cut. But my teeth tear into it without the proper knife and fork, creating my own etiquette for how to eat a lamb chop.