mid-20sfroma grottyneighbourhood
inWestLondon.ThankstoPatrick
I havenowbeentothecountry
exactlyfivetimes— thisdoesnot
includea triptoGlastonbury.
DuringthosevisitsI’vecomeface
tofacewitha cow,meta ferret,seena
duckshotoutoftheskyandseparated
a fist fightina Scottishlayby.I tellhimI’llthinkaboutit,thenroll
over on my sun lounger and go back
to sleep — what do I have to say about
“ethical meat consumption” anyway?
That evening, as I pull some beef
out the oven, I suddenly fi nd myself
trying to avoid thinking about how
the cow met its end. As the news playsI
amlanguishingonmypatio,
ridingoutthehorrorofa
three-day,post-music-festival
hangover,whenthephone
rings.It’sPatrickGalbraith,anold
friendandtheEditorofthisfine
magazine.“Hipal,I’vebeenthinking
aboutcookingupsomesquirrels
anda deerandI waswonderingif
youwantedtojoinmeandmaybe
writeanarticleaboutethicalmeat
consumption?”hesaid.
Thinkingaboutmybankbalance,
I tellhimthatanyoffersofpaid
employmentareverywelcomebut
ask, on a practical note, where we’re
going to fi nd such exotic creatures.
“Well, that’s the thing,” he
replies. “You’ll have to go back
to the country.”
My name is Sachin Kureishi and
J. ALEXANDERI am a British-Pakistani man in my
20 • SHOOTING TIMES & COUNTRY MAGAZINE
inthekitchenI watchmybrother
spreadingpeppercornsauceonthe
cow’sbelly;at leastI thinkit’sbelly,
it couldbea leg.Eitherway,I don’t
fe e ls ohu n g r y.
A fewdayslater,Patrickrings
again.Thistimehegoesinhard,
tellingmeI needtoeatlessprocessed
meatandmoresquirrelorbiblicalfloodsandtornadoeswillcome.
I’m not sure I quite follow, but if the
people of the countryside need my
help, then give it to them I shall.
I wake up just as we’re pulling into
a lay-by beside a dark wood. I step out
of the car and look around — we’re
surrounded by green, soaring trees,Ethicalmeatdoesn't
meanmuch— until
youget out intothe
countrysideand see
whereit comesfrom.
Thenit makessense,
saysSachinKureishi
The meaning of life
Wild food
“I admit I’d prefer not to kill anything.
‘If only it were that simple,’ he says”