I like to consider myself a die-hard carnivore, the kind of person who enjoys her steaks bloody, or “barely dead” as my mom would say. I commend restaurants like Mado because they don’t waste; they use as much of the animal as possible, and they even teach courses on swine butchering and tweet about beef tongue. Plus, it’s not every day I get to try tripe and beef heart and Mado gives me that opportunity; the closest thing to offal I had growing up was fried chicken gizzards, and man, I loved them so. So yeah, vegetarian I am not, nor could I ever be. But for this month, I’m going to try. As Hubs will quickly interject, it doesn’t make a lick of sense. Why volunteer to take away part of my life that I cherish? I openly laugh at people participating in Lent (if you are one of...
