When I was little, I went through a period where I much enjoyed playing with My little Pony. But horses were for playing, not for eating. Being Spanish, our local delicacies were rabbit and snails, rather than a cheval steak.
Yet it now emerges that after more than a decade living in the UK, having little money drove me for a long time to buy food from budget ranges. So, I may have been eating horse all along, after all.
I do not, in principle, object to the idea of eating horse, if it takes your liking. It is an ideological and cultural choice. What disturbs me is the knowledge that anything unknown could be in our plate tonight, disguised as something else.
At a time when food prices are climbing and people are feeling the squeeze, many of us are facing the stark choice of eating less meat and relying in other sources of protein, pay more (if you can afford to) or take a chance whenever you put a mouthful in your mouth. If fish is too expensive, hens are farmed in unknown ways, chickens carry diseases and beef is anything but it, the time might come soon to dust the vegetarian cookbook from the back of the bookshelf, or to demand an economy with a non-toxic food chain.
Something alarming and unfair is happening to our world when eating a proper meal becomes an aspiration tied to social and economic classes and not a right for the money.