Many is the poor husband who, while dutifully supporting his wife’s labor, commits the terrible mistake of taking a quick peek. Perhaps his delirious partner, in her extreme condition, demands to know how much of the baby is out. Perhaps the birth attendant, both used to and enthralled by the relentless exposure to the business end of life invites him to take a look he’ll never forget. Nowadays, the paternal responsibility of cutting the cord pressures the new father into witnessing the carnage of his beloved’s forest glade a few months before its seductive form has been regained. In any case, such scenes can elicit an impolite response: loss of consciousness, immediate regurgitation, an avowal to his god of lifelong celibacy, or the utterance of deeply regrettable profanity. Let’s face it: the sight of a mammal emerging from another mammal’s nether regions is not for the faint of heart.
And it’s not just something one may stumble across in the odd intimacy of one’s birthing suite; footage of animals giving birth, both wild and domestic, is everywhere on the internet for all to see: one minute you’re scrolling past memes, and the next a sheep / goat / horse / cow / elephant / wildebeest is being pushed wetly, hoof-first, from its mother shamelessly on camera for all the world to see. It’s not the facts of life; it’s a fact of life. Like the Scouts say, be prepared.
And it’s not just an assault from the animal kingdom one has to be prepared to view: the vegetable world has joined the fray too. Witness here the trials of the lowly, yet noble onion, as she delivers a slick new version of herself onto the dinner table. Note the gentle, yet firm encouragement provided by the chef/doula’s gloved hands, while her sister onion patiently awaits her turn on the plate.
Do not turn away from the miracle of life, dear reader: do not avert your gaze, for it is a tale as old as time. One onion begets another, and so it goes on, layer after glistening layer.
Vegetables Roasted in Coals
The Betty Crocker Recipe Card Library 1971
