Small Bites: This holiday season, pay more for your meat

Good habits start small (bites).

This is our newsletter-first column, Microtones. It runs on the site on Fridays, but you can get it in your inbox on Thursdays by signing up for our email newsletter.

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“Small Bites” is about exploring the broader world of food and drink in Madison through approachable and specific experiences.

I have a general idea of what’s good for me. For example, when my doctor looked at my bloodwork this fall, he was concerned about my mildly elevated blood sugar levels and liver enzyme numbers. Over an extended period of time, I might qualify as “pre-diabetic” and become stricken with “fatty liver disease.” I know I need to adjust my diet to make those numbers look better. I know I probably shouldn’t devour the entire container of holiday cookies my mom baked for me in a single hour. But hey—guess what—they’re delicious, and I work from home. 

No, I’m serious. She makes this chocolate-topped toffee with crushed pecans and these little coconut thumbprint cookies with melted caramel centers. And then the peanut butter blossoms and the traditional spritz Christmas tree- and snowflake-shaped cookies with green and blue candy glitter… am I supposed to savor them one at a time? Pick at them disinterestedly while hanging lights and ornaments? Please, I am a man of food delights. And the most delightful way to eat holiday cookies is by the fistful. 

I also know that I shouldn’t eat those cookies. But food decisions aren’t always practical. When we decide what we want to eat, it’s always a balance of flavor, budget, health, and, well, ethics. How much are you willing to spend on coffee to ensure it is picked and processed by workers able to make a living wage? How do you know if the farm workers who picked your strawberries were actually paid? And then, well, there’s meat. 

Cheap meat has defined the American diet ever since the turn of the century when industrialization brought pork and beef to the masses from Chicago’s slaughterhouses via its railways. But even 120 years after Upton Sinclair’s exposé novel The Jungle was published, we’re still facing terrifying working conditions and illegally employed children in meat-packing facilities in Wisconsin. Conditions for poultry have made chicken farms ground zero for a bird flu outbreak that’s spreading to cattle. And on and on and on. 

Look, I know I don’t need to lecture. The Omnivore’s Dilemma came out almost 20 years ago. We all saw the videos of pink slime that constitutes McDonald’s chicken nuggets (no, I am not going to link to them). Americans have been struggling with information about meat production and its health effects for years, and it still hasn’t changed our eating habits that much. In 2000, only 2.8% of the population identified as vegetarian; that has only increased to 4% by 2024. When meat is cheap, it’s going to get eat. Er, ate. Eaten. I’ll keep working on the catchphrase. 

It’s probably not the number-one thing you want to think about the week before Christmas. Those who gather to celebrate are likely planning a roast that’s big enough to feed an extended family. And I get it. I love a good roast. Turkey, pork, beef—it’s hard to beat a roast when family is the vibe. I just have one request: Pay more for it. 

No, I’m serious. I think we should be paying more for meat. That’s not the crux of the argument; it’s just the byproduct. What I actually want you to do is buy your meat from a local meat store that has a direct relationship with the farms where the animals are raised. It’s the best way to ensure that the animals are treated with decency, workers are fairly compensated, and the quality of the meat is high. It’s going to cost you more money, but that’s okay. 

Meatless Monday might not convince you to abstain from a burger at the start of your week, but paying market price for a good steak might. Putting a limitation on your ability to endlessly down chicken wings is easier when that limitation is how many wings fit into your weeknight budget. I know it’s good for me to eat meat sparingly, and based on my inability to control my cookie consumption when they’re available, I now know a good way to put myself in that position. 

In reality, buying a whole chicken or a pair of steaks at Meat People (4106 Monona Drive) isn’t that much more expensive than buying certified organic at any grocery store, which is important in a market-based economy. Sadly, our best version of praxis in the United States is voting with your dollars. If you’re willing to spend a little more and eat meat a little less, you’re directly creating a demand for a more ethical way to buy meat. I mean, you can always run for office or lobby for more humane farm conditions, too. 

As an East-Sider, I love stopping by Meat People every other week to splurge on a whole chicken or pick up some sausages or select a choice pair of steaks. The staff is friendly, knowledgeable, and helpful. Aside from their meat case, they have an incredible selection of wines, snacks, condiments, and dry goods. My Thanksgiving this year included just me and my partner, and our picking up some ribeyes also led to grabbing cassoulet beans off the shelf and the required meats to make the classic French dish. And after a meat-filled weekend, we made green beans, tofu, and a tomato panzanella. 

On the West Side, Conscious Carnivore also has an excellent selection of farm direct meat (along with loads of high-end pantry staples), and you can always visit the Dane County Farmers’ Market’s Winter Market or order direct from farms through Wisconsin Weekly Harvest. Each option is a step towards more ethical meat consumption, and yeah, you’re going to see higher prices than an industrialized grocery store.

I don’t think we’re going to completely reorganize the American meat industry by paying more for pork chops, but it’s a step towards something better. It’s just like how cutting cookies out of my diet won’t immediately fix my bloodwork. But good habits start small, and maybe if you haven’t gone holiday-roast shopping yet, you can start with your Christmas dinner.