½ cup fresh basil leaves
1 tablespoon garlic salt
1 tablespoon Parmesan cheese
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon pepper
Optional: ¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 loaf fresh bread
DIRECTIONS
1.Chop basil finely. Gently mix basil, garlic salt, parmesan cheese, salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes. Add olive oil.
2.Serve olive oil dip and fresh bread as an appetizer or as part of the meal.
Makes ¾ cup of olive oil dip.
CHRISTY’S FIG-OLIVE TAPENADE
This is the perfect sweet and savory combination to add to a cheese board or a center snack at your dinner gathering. Leif and I love the savory sweetness of this spread.
PREP: 15 minutes COOK: none COOL: none
½ cup pitted Kalamata olives
½ cup stemmed and halved dried figs (about 8 figs)
2 teaspoons capers
1 teaspoon chopped garlic
2 teaspoons fresh thyme leaves, plus more for garnish
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar
kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste bread or crackers
DIRECTIONS
1.Pulse olives, figs, capers, garlic, and thyme in a food processor until a coarse mixture forms. Add olive oil, balsamic, salt, and pepper, and pulse to combine.
2.Serve with your favorite cracker or a fresh piece of French baguette.
Makes 1 cup of dip.
7
A Flame-Grilled Lamb Chop
TASTE AND SEE GOD’S RESCUE
I may be an aspiring foodie, but I’m an actual carnivore. Seriously. If I were a dinosaur, I’d be a T-Rex. Apologies to all my vegan readers.
I salivate at the scent of a sizzling steak. Perhaps that’s why Leif and I have multiple grills on our back porch—a wood pellet, a smoker, and gas for speedy meals. To me, few foods warrant a celebration like a salty slab of beef ripped off a sizzling grill. The flavorful crust, slight chew, the tenderness, the juiciness, and the aroma create an unforgettable multisensory experience. Most people opt for a filet mignon or rib eye; I’m on a perpetual hunt for a well-marbled New York strip.
Given my obsession with steak, you can imagine how excited I was to hear rumors of a fanatical butcher outside Dallas who calls himself the “Meat Apostle.” His name is Matt Hamilton and he owns a modest butcher shop in downtown McKinney called Local Yocal. Don’t be tricked by the store’s unassuming appearance. On the front patio, Matt runs something of a carnivore college where he teaches his gospel of sustainable meat eating to hungry disciples from across the globe.
The legend of the Meat Apostle sounds too eccentric to be true, so I enroll in his “Steakology 101” class and board a plane for Dallas to see for myself.
From the moment I arrive, Matt lives up to all the hype and more. With his straw cowboy hat and all-American smile, he entertains guests like a Wild West carnival showman. He plays up his love for college football and God and everything red, white, and blue. If Matt’s personality is any indication, everything is indeed bigger in Texas.
It’s all fun and games as the new students roll in, but the tone grows more serious when the class commences. Instead of a big chalkboard, we face a lineup of oversized black outdoor grills. Picnic tables double as desks as we are encouraged to take notes. The information comes at us hard and fast. The whole event feels less like a lecture and more like a revival.
For three and a half hours, the Meat Apostle preaches about the plight of today’s rancher, sermonizes about the importance of ethical treatment of animals, and teaches us how to identify cuts of meat. His charismatic presentation leaves us hanging on each word. Even when the mesquite smokes into charcoal embers, no one complains about the air-to-wear humidity of the July afternoon.
My stomach turns queasy when Matt segues into the high cost of cheap meat. With razor-thin margins, the life span of a steer has been reduced from four to five years in the 1930s to just over one year today. Growing a calf from eighty pounds to twelve hundred pounds in fourteen months requires shortcuts: excessive amounts of corn and grain, growth hormones, and multiple rounds of antibiotics because the animals become prone to more illness.
“Guess what they do with the weakest and unhealthiest cows?”
No one raises a hand.
“Hamburger . . .” he says, “. . . but do you know what’s in those patties?”
My stomach performs an involuntary backflip.
“More than you want to know.”
The average pound of hamburger from the grocery store includes the DNA of 60–130 different cows. That’s how one sick animal can spur massive meat recalls and affect thousands of meals. Lifting up a pound of Local Yocal’s burger meat, Matt announces, “This is one cow and no other cow.”
Matt touts the genetic history of the cow tracing back more than fifty years. He knows the lineage, how the cow’s ancestors were treated and bred, their birth date, wean date, and processing date. The meat at Matt’s store is raised and butchered using the most humane techniques. And if an animal ever needs antibiotics, they wait at least a year to process her so none of those drugs affect consumers.
Toward the final hour of class, an aroma rises from the grill. Few scents make me as hungry as the smell of roasting meat. The sweet-salty beefiness fills our nostrils and the class circles the grills in anticipation. We taste sausage and lamb and obscure cuts of steak. The class ends without an invitation, altar call, or corporate prayer, but by the time we are dismissed, I have repented of my unhealthy habits and converted to a new way of consuming meat. I can’t wait to share my discoveries with all my foodie friends.
WHERE ANCIENT FOOD REGULATIONS SHOW UP TODAY
I ask Matt if he’s willing to answer some questions about meat in Scripture. Rather than convene at his butcher shop, we meet in a gutted warehouse down the street. He plans to transform the space into a new location for community building and education, a connecting point for people who want to prepare and consume food more thoughtfully.
Matt talks fast with sweeping gestures, but he’s not the same carny entertainer I witnessed before. This is a gastro-visionary. Matt points toward an area designed for larger classes. I follow him through two kitchens—one for wood-fired pizzas and another for grilling steaks.
“We’re creating the mecca of meat!” he announces.
Leaning back in an office chair, he removes his signature cowboy hat dotted with an American flag pin, revealing strawberry blonde hair.
I’m curious what Matt thinks of ancient food regulations. Throughout the Torah, God instructs how to eat, when to eat, what to eat, and how much to eat. Some foods are prohibited; others permissible. Insects qualify as kosher, so long as they jump, but fish remain off-limits if they have scales but no fins. Those on the nonkosher list are often scavenging creatures. Cud-chewing livestock with split hooves are considered kosher or clean. Dogs, cats, and horses are not permitted.
In an era before refrigeration and vaccines, these food laws kept the Israelites from becoming ill. They also distinguished God’s people. The food prohibitions created social boundaries, ensuring the Israelites weren’t wined and dined by pork-chop-eating pagans like the Philistines.
Matt explains that these ancient regulations still shape modern food-handling practices. Though the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) would never claim to base their meat laws on the book of Leviticus, some of the most important rules trace back to the Bible.
“Don’t eat sick animals if you don’t know what they have—that’s USDA,” Matt says. “Don’t eat dead animals, because you don’t know what they died from—that’s USDA. Don’t eat animals that die of suspicious causes—that’s USDA. Even the command to get the blood out—that’s USDA.”
* * *
Table Discovery: The same cut of meat will have different names based on where you are in the United States. Accordin
g to Matt, a Delmonico is known as the eye of the rib eye on the East Coast but a chuck eye steak in the heartland. A bone-in strip is known as a Kansas City strip west of the Mississippi and a shell steak on the Eastern
* * *
In addition to food regulations, Jewish teaching also includes laws regarding animal welfare. Ancient Jewish interpreters of the Torah insist one must butcher animals using methods that avoid needless pain. If a blade is nicked, the animal cannot not be consumed. The priestly butcher must constantly inspect the blades to eliminate unnecessary suffering.
Matt quotes King Solomon: “Know well seaboard. the condition of your flocks, and give attention to your herds.” He points out that God has always been insistent about the merciful and humane care of animals. When you give a good life to flocks and herds, they reciprocate in turn by giving life to you and your whole household.
“How we handle animals reflects how we treat others and how we treat God,” he declares. “If we are cruel toward animals, we will be cruel to one another.”
Today, meat packers have discovered it’s in their best interest to consider animal welfare. Temple Grandin, a professor of animal science, revolutionized the industry with new standards for handling, transporting, and processing animals. Matt says big corporations were willing to invest in her methods, because calm, well-handled livestock produce better meat. Whenever an animal is in a fight-or-flight stage, the adrenal glands push excess blood through the body, making it harder to drain and toughening meat. These truths have been embedded in God’s Word for millennia.
“Do you feel called to this?” I ask.
“All I want to do is go back to ranching in Oklahoma, but I feel God’s saying that’s not what I’ve got for you,” Matt explains. “I feel like he’s calling me to help people understand where their food is coming from and help people connect through food.”
“You really are a Meat Apostle,” I affirm.
“People have such flippancy about food,” Matt admits. “We’re such an abundant country that we don’t know where food comes from and we waste 30–40 percent of what we have. People don’t get what it takes to raise animals like chickens until they’re old or protect a lamb from dying by bottle feeding it day and night.”
Matt’s eyes turn red and dewy.
“I hurt for farmers and ranchers everywhere. You can’t work hard enough on a farm anymore and get ahead. I’ve seen too many people die an early death from the stress and anxiety of trying to feed others. The American farmer is asked to feed 118 people and can’t feed his own family.”
Mopping tears with his palms, he adds, “When a farm has been in a family for generations and then gets foreclosed on, it makes me sappy.”
HOW TO UNDERSTAND MEAT IN THE ANCIENT WORLD
In the ancient world and in most developing nations today, people view meat as a delicacy because of the intense labor and vast land required to raise the animals. Cows are considered the most valuable because they produce far larger quantities of milk and meat than sheep and goats. They also require more acreage, vegetation, water, and natural resources to sustain. Sheep and goats are often more plentiful because they thrive on smaller tracts of land with limited resources.
Both Abraham’s and Job’s immense amounts of livestock illustrate their wealth. The psalmist even boasts of the riches of God in terms of animal husbandry as the Lord owns the cattle on a thousand hills. Through modern ears, I’d always heard this as a declaration that God has enough beef for every Outback and LongHorn Steakhouse around.
Those living in an agrarian context understand the declaration in a deeper way. Possessing cattle implies owning the land where the livestock roams. A measure of one thousand hills suggests God’s property extends an immeasurable distance, and cattle in the Bible refer to a variety of livestock including sheep and goats.
Their grazing habits complement each other in ideal situations. Cattle go first on the hills and graze the best grasses. Sheep follow behind and clean up the remains. Goats eat what none of the others will. Together they’ll graze on a piece of land until it’s stripped clean of green. When the land is allowed to rest for a month, the vegetation springs back. God’s majesty appears in the creatures, the creation, and the created order.
The vaults of God’s wealth run deeper. Unlike our modern culture today, ancient Israelites knew the real value of the animal is found in the length of its life, not its brevity. Cows, goats, and sheep provide an ongoing high-protein source of milk, which can be turned into cheese. Newborns help the flock to multiply. Meanwhile, sheep provide wool for clothing and blankets. In describing God as owning cattle on a thousand hills, the psalmist paints a powerful image of God as Creator and Sustainer and Owner. God has the best and most abundant resources for all generations.
Feeling discouraged? Remember your God owns the cattle on a thousand hills.
Trapped in a scarcity mindset? Be reminded that your God owns the cattle on a thousand hills.
Worried about the future? Rest in knowing your God owns the cattle on a thousand hills.
Livestock are often the centerpieces of powerful biblical stories. To rescue King David from his blindness to adultery and murder, Nathan tells of a wealthy man with an abundance of sheep and cattle.
When an unexpected guest arrives, the rich man refuses to take from his own cattle to prepare the meal. He insists on robbing a poor man of his one ewe lamb. This is the poor man’s most prized possession. The fluffy ewe has spent long days following in the man’s shadow, lapping from the man’s cup, snuggling in the man’s arms. Somewhere along the way the animal transitioned from livestock to pet to family member until she became a “daughter to him.”
The story stirs the shepherd-king’s anger. David loves lambs and knows their value among the poor. If a man had one ewe, then he could convince a neighbor’s ram to breed her every year. If a man had one ewe, he had access to milk. If a man had one ewe, he could procure wool to keep him warm. When the rich man slaughtered the ewe, he took more than the man’s possession; he took away his future. Through the story, David’s eyes open to the error of his abuse of power.
The mention of an animal also appears in the parable of the prodigal son, in which Jesus describes an older brother who becomes embittered when his father celebrates his sibling’s return. The older brother’s fury centers on the food that’s served at the welcome home party. A fattened calf, a true delicacy in antiquity, is butchered and barbecued for the rebellious sibling. But the steadfast brother has never been given even a young goat to celebrate with his friends.
This story would have struck and stuck with listeners whose diet consisted primarily of bread. The peasantry only ate meat during the high holidays, so the idea of butchering an animal for the naughty brother would have caught in their throats.
Jesus highlights the importance of meat again in the parable of the great banquet where a king hosts a marriage feast for his son. The host sends his servants to call those invited, but they refuse. The king can’t afford any delay, because the cattle and fatlings have already been killed.
Without access to refrigeration, the host only has a sliver of time before the meat grows rancid. The king sends his servants to the highways and byways to invite any and all. Those who refuse to attend will offend the king and miss the feast of a lifetime. Jesus weaves the story into a cautionary tale warning us not to make the same mistake of refusing the king’s invitation.
WHY THE LAMB IS ONE YEAR OLD
All the time talking about meat and antiquity makes me curious to know Matt’s perspective on one particular animal: the lamb. At Local Yocal, the largest demand for lamb is always around the Passover.
I am not surprised. In scouring the Bible for mentions of lamb and sheep, one word kept emerging as synonymous with sheep: sacrifice. This traces back to the opening pages of Genesis. Beginning with Adam and Eve, God covers human sin and removes shame with animal skins, marking the first animal sacrifice. Abel, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob all
made sacrifices which likely involved sheep. God institutes the command to sacrifice as a way to atone for one’s sins. Recognizing the high-cost world of livestock helps us understand the high-cost ask of God. Each sacrifice represented an offering of precious resources and future income.
At the Passover, the blood of the sacrificial lamb dribbles down Israelite doorposts and rescues God’s people from the knock of death on every door. Later, when the tabernacle appears in the desert, whole burnt offerings, guilt offerings, and sin offerings rise from within its velvety drapes. The first seven chapters of the book of Leviticus describe the main types of animal sacrifice. In burnt offerings, the whole animal is consumed in the fire, an extravagant gift because the entirety is given to God. For guilt and sin offerings, innards are also burned, but the meat is eaten only by the priest. In fellowship or peace offerings, the fat, kidneys, and section of liver burn in the fire. The remaining meat is divided between the priests and the offerer.
Israelite worship could have centered on prayer and piety, but God sets the table in the temple, too. Meat, including lamb, often appears on the altar, filling the holy spaces with savory scents.
The Scripture makes it clear that when making a sacrifice, God prefers his meat roasted instead of boiled.
One of the all-time greatest scenes of sacrifice in the Bible appears during the temple dedication under King Solomon. Twenty-two thousand cattle and 120,000 sheep and goats roast in the megameat-tastic event. Some of the offerings are completely consumed, but the rest are enjoyed by the priests and people in a weeklong feast.
As a butcher, Matt describes the scene as impossible to comprehend. The largest, most efficient plants in the nation have the technology and equipment to process 8,000 cattle a day, but that requires 2,200 employees working around the clock. Almost 80,000 family farmers and ranchers are needed to care for six million sheep in the United States—that’s one person for every seventy-five sheep.
Taste and See Page 12