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When I was growing up in Co Antrim, we had two freezers. One was the icebox on top of the fridge, constantly bunged with frost, fish fingers, the odd, loose frozen pea and chocolate Easter eggs as, bizarrely, we children liked our chocolate very cold and snappy.
Across the farmyard, in the garage, was a deep, white, meat coffin, regularly filled by my father with whole sides of lamb or beef. At times, distressingly – but usually not enough to stop me eating it – it would be an animal which had grown up in the fields outside my bedroom window. Read the rest of this entry »