It is only fair to issue a ‘health warning’ to the valiant, stoic folk who peruse these regular grumbles and moans of this miserable old man; this article could, at best, be of little interest to some readers, at worst possibly offend them. For the several hundred words which follow this intro’ concern the rating of meat; thus vegetarians and vegans might wish to look away now – though I hope you do not as I need all the readers I can get.

Having said this, I must state that I am not unsympathetic to vegetarianism; I eat, and enjoy, a great deal of veg and fruit, eggs, cheese, indeed, most milk products.

A ‘meat free’ plate of fresh salad for lunch is, to me, a treat and I am certain that I could adapt to a diet without meat if demanded by health considerations. Veganism, mind you, is somewhat different – probably a ‘bridge too far’ for me.

I am, though, something of an unconventional meat eater; roast beef and lamb, steaks and suchlike do not appeal, especially when blood is oozing from the allegedly ‘cooked’ joint; I can only face it if it is grilled almost to a cinder – which means one can risk teeth in the chewing. However, I do like them in curries, chillis and so forth – pork, also. Corned beef is a favourite, likewise ham, especially in sandwiches – all with lashings of English mustard. Cottage and Shepherd’s pie too will always bring a smile to my face – accompanied by the licking of lips!

Also I’m a serial sausage eater; served with mash it is a delicious dish. Chicken and turkey – particularly the white parts – are very acceptable; I have always felt that the latter is wasted by being pigeon-holed (to mix my avian species) as a ‘festive bird’.

Talking of pigeon, it too can be tasty, though it will quickly become tough if not cooked by a knowledgeable chef. Venison, a very strong tasting flesh, appeals to me, whilst the only two occasions I’ve ever devoured ostrich were memorable – it was superb. Rarely now does one come across it in restaurants, and it’s even more unlikely to be found in butchers and supermarkets.

Fish I enjoy greatly, although Ann is not so keen; strangely, though, I am not, and never have been, a lover of fish and chips; batter has no allure, whilst I feel there are half a dozen more delicious ways to cook potatoes – possibly, to me, in their jackets being best.

The harvest from the sea can be expensive – fair enough when one considers the dangers fishermen constantly face in landing catches. Yet it need not always be so – the mighty tuna, when tinned, is cheap and can please the palate; it certainly makes a decent sandwich.

Offal, too, is something to enjoy – especially liver; kidneys and hearts, as well, can be pleasant to eat, though appear to be somewhat out of fashion these days, despite the fact that top-end restaurants have for some time now been attempting to drive a renaissance. My father used to like brawn (cooked pickled pigs head and ox feet) also tripe – the linings of a cow’s stomach – cooked in milk. I cannot claim to be a fan of either.

The war years, and several thereafter, brought us the ‘miracle meat’ – SPAM – when a hungry, besieged nation was fed, partially, by the creation of a product which contained a little ham and plenty of heaven knows what else; it was not too bad, though, and played a vital part in sustaining folk.

A truly massive contribution to the feeding of people in the 1940s and ’50s, however, was made by a humble wild creature viewed as a pest – the rabbit. Multitudinous in number – it was never slow in breeding – many men made a living out of catching them then selling the creatures to butchers.

Our farm, like so many, seethed with them, and rabbit catchers – many using ferrets to chase them from their holes – would harvest them in abundance. The agreement, usually, was that farmers would be given a brace by the hunter as a token of appreciation for allowing them to ply their trade on their land. Thus did my mother prepare meals, regularly, using their flesh – pies, stews and so forth, mostly delicious.

In fact, of all the meats I’ve ever tasted, rabbit is my favourite. The problem these days, though, is to actually locate it. Never have I seen it in supermarkets, and rarely in butchers – though there is a well known local one which makes sublime rabbit pies. Whenever eating out I search for it on menus, but I am almost eternally disappointed.

Why this is the case, I know not; there are still many populating our countryside – though far fewer since the scourge of myxamatosis. I shall, though, keep searching – whilst devouring those magnificent pies – and praying that the bunny does not become an endangered species.