There on Ura May’s spice shelf,
What a wealth!
So many foods for to enhance.
Arranged for the cook’s glance,
“What is this and what’s in it?”
I asked of something labeled, rennet.
They let a calf nurse its mother,
Slaughter it and its brother,
Take that milk from stomach lining,
An enzyme used to make cheese, no whining.
“What! How cruel,” I mutter,
With a shudder.
“It’s veal, you know.”
She informed me slow,
What’s the difference in how you eat,
Veal, beef, cheese, or any other meat?
