A Modest Proposal Regarding Office Veal (with due Respect to Jonathan Swift)

In the First World, we humans make life easier on ourselves using every trick we can think of.  Adjustable chairs help us use less energy while we sit.  Vehicles take us anywhere in the comfort of climate-controlled cabins.  Instead of our muscles, we employ machines to dig, plow, reap, hammer, brush our teeth etc.  We have taken a privileged position in the quiet cubicles of the world. . . and we have become office veal.

As a consequence, our flesh is more tender, heavier on our frames, and of course better marbled than the meat on those skinny little fryers in the Third World. They are digging wells with shovels, we are driving through for a free refill. They are riding bicycles through the smog, we are lounging by the radio in traffic.

We could be giving back a little to the world whose resources we guzzle. Think of the peasants of China or Africa.  Imagine how much more those sinewy folks could get done after a hearty meal of USA Trotters with Manioc Greens! Tax-Attorney Love Handles braised with wild ramps! Dental Office Receptionist Osso Buco with Mint Chutney! Investment Banker Tenderloin Roasts served on Dollar Rolls with Lipo Aioli. We could really change some lives out there. Not to mention, some of us could fetch quite a good price!

With the advances we have made in pain management, prosthetics and ergonomic furniture, there isn't a compelling reason not to become a Center-of-the-Plate contributor to the next course of global food mania. Write off that leg with the bad knee on your taxes; then hack it, cryo-vac it, ship it to a tycoon in Hong Kong who needs something rare to serve his guests at the executive dinner.  It's a win-win for din-din!

I myself am not a stout person, and so you may be thinking that I am ridiculing only the more ripely formed of my brethren.  But just where does a lean lanky body fit into this emerging market? I will have to hawk my under-bulked carcass to afficianados of Grass-Fed Beef, I guess. It may be too early in the craze to reach my full market potential, but I'm hoping that Whole Foods may make me an offer once they see what kind of flavor-to-fat ratio I bring to the table. (I'm researching how long it will take to get my derriere Certified Organic.)

Or maybe I should go capitalist rogue and start the world's first (?) Suicidal-Cannibal-Pop-Up Restaurant. Take that Ludo Lefebvre. "Good evening, I'm Stephen Trouvere, and I'm proud to be serving <me> tonight."

Office Veal.  Market it as an exotic, dangerous, taboo ingredient for those who like it weird. Or market it as comfort food for locavores.  Either way, with 6 billion people to feed, we should probably take a hard look in the mirror and lop off some part that needs plastic surgery anyway.

Hey, those hams alone could feed a village.