When Miss M was little, I was never sure what the parental etiquette of meat eating was. Should I tell her lamb was really “a lamb”, or chicken was the same cute, fuzzy yellow feathered thing she oohed and aahed over on Playschool? Beef, pork, ham and bacon were all safe, as it was hard to make a correlation between the name and where the meat had originated from, but I knew one day the party, so to speak, would be over.

It happened one day when she asked what was for dinner. The answer was ribs, as I’d been marinating some in a delicious concoction overnight. Miss M was silent for a few moments, then said “Mummy, are they human ribs?” I was slightly taken aback, but told her they were pork. And then came the crunch, when she asked what pork was. Later, when she was happily tearing into dinner, she said “wow, these pig ribs are fantastic”.

A couple of years ago, we watched an episode of The Simpsons, where Lisa becomes a vegetarian because she can’t bear the idea of eating delightful animals. Afterwards, I asked Miss M what she felt about the whole carnivorous situation. She told me she felt a little bad about eating animals, but that they were too delicious to give up, and I have to say I feel the same way. James, my brother who is also a dedicated carnivore, has been eating yak in Tibet (twice a day apparently), and buffalo in Laos. Any beasts of burden in Thailand should be slightly nervous for the next week or so.

I know I feel better when I include meat in my diet, and I make a big effort to buy free range and organic products wherever possible. Nutritionally, it’s generally agreed the most superior form of iron is haem iron, which is only found in meat. Miss M may well make the decision to become a vegetarian later on in life, but having seen the way she consumes what she likes to call “bone meat”, it’s probably not a wager I’d be taking.

Today I’m loving: being able to sleep in tomorrow!