One of our neighbours rears cattle for veal. The animals all live together: the bull (that's him behind the mother and baby soaking up the sunshine), about 50 wives and their off-spring until it's time for the young ones to go to market.
I'm stupidly soft about animals and would never allow veal to be on the menu in my country-house hotels because most British restaurant-goers did not believe they were being served veal unless it was white. It didn't seem to put them off their appetites knowing that the milk-fed calves had been kept enclosed in small crates to obtain the escalopes to their liking.
Because the Tarn calves have enjoyed a longer and completely natural up-bringing, their veal is pink and succulent, with more flavour than white veal. Cooked simply in a little sunflower oil with whole cloves of Lautrec's world-famous pink garlic, Tarn veal is something to savour, especially it you get it from M. Fraisse in Lautrec.
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