Rarely Honest, Often Well-Done…The Red Meat Myth Cooked to Perfection
New research reveals your steak might be fibbing—especially if the study was sponsored by someone with shares in a slaughterhouse.
Right. Let me get this out of the way… I don’t like red meat. I did. Not now. Not since John Major was Prime Minister. Never will again. It’s chewy, greasy and smells like something that should be buried, not barbecued. It’s the culinary equivalent of putting a cement mixer through your colon and calling it hearty.
Now, the red meat mafia, sorry, “indus…
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