Cow, it's whats for dinner.

I've never understood how some foods we call by their animal name and some foods we call by their body parts.  We have eat ribs, but which animal?  We eat butt steak (although it's origin is not where one would expect it to be) but which animal?  Of course let's not forget the bacon, ribs, and pork chops.  My chicken legs are, well, chicken legs.  Fish is just some general term that includes the entire fish, sometimes including fish that aren't truly fish, for example, "I love fish, especially crab and lobster."

Apparently this lack of terminology also concerns my child.  Monkey has taken it upon himself to question what it is he is eating.

Monkey:  "Mommy, what is this?"
Me:  "It's steak."
Monkey:  "It's steak?  But what is it?"  Obviously he has read enough animal books to realize that there is no such animal as a steak animal.
Me:  (In my head, "Oh God, please don't be asking what I think you're asking.  I don't  need you to be freaking out about animals!") To him, "What do you mean?"
Monkey:  "Is it chicken?"
Me: (NOOOOOO!!!!!!) Much calmer, "No."
Monkey:  "Then what is it?"
Me:  "It's beef."  (After all, beef is going to make much more sense.)
Monkey:  "Beef?  Noooo, what animal is it?"
Me:  "It's cow."
Monkey:  Very matter of fact, "Oh.  It's cow?"
Me:  Please let this end,  "Yes"
Monkey:  "Oh.  How did they kill it?"
Me:  Uuuuhhhh.... blank stare.... "I have no clue.  How do you like the carrots?"

He surprisingly dropped the subject but it was not forgotten.  It came up again at the butcher.  I wanted to buy a duck and had the boys with me.

Me to the butcher:  "Do you have any duck?"
Butcher:  "Yes, they're over here, I'll show you."  Monkey follows her.
Monkey:  "You have ducks?  Where are they?"
Butcher:  "Uuuhhhh.... Well they're not really ducks.... They're uuuhhh.... I think you're mommy was calling you."  (I really had said his name, but I don't think either of them heard since I knew this could only go wrong.)
Monkey:  "Are the ducks in there?"  Pointing right at the ducks in refrigerator.
Me:  "Uuuuhhhh...."
Butcher:  Choosing to leave me on my own, "I'll let you choose which one you'd like."
I finally decide to tell him that those are the ducks.  He seems completely unfazed by this and continues his interrogation.
Me: "Yes, those are the ducks."
Monkey:  "Oh, where's the head?"
Me:  please let this end... "I'm not sure.  It's not there."
Monkey:  "Oh, what about the feet.  Where are the feet?"
Me: "I don't know Monkey, let's keep going."
Monkey:  "Well how can it walk around?"
Apparently not having a head to see wasn't as concerning as the lack of feet.
Me: "It can't, it's dead, it's not going to walk around.  Ever.  Let's keep going."
We continue to walk to the counter and as I'm looking at the different salads they have, he starts up again.
Monkey: "Who killed it?"
Me:  Really?  Really.  "I don't know, probably the farmer or the butcher."  As soon as I said the last part, I realized I made a mistake.
Monkey: To the butcher, "Did you kill the duck?"
Butcher:  "Um.  What?"
Monkey:  "Where did you kill it?"
Butcher:  "I think it was the farmer."

I quickly say that the butcher doesn't know and let's go!  I pay for the duck (grab a free sample), apologize and leave.  The poor butcher, she earned her pay for the day!

I'm planning on making roast sherry duck with it.  I need to buy some sherry but couldn't handle another stop with the unknown questions.

Vicky