Take an exit on a motorway further from any bigger city in Europe, and immediately, you will find yourselves passing by the emerald fields sprinkled with black, brown, pied and brindle cows, leisurely masticating grass, somewhere on the horizon little wooden farms and sheds are shimmering in the raindrops. This almost idyllic image is so eye and consciousness pleasing that it is this idea that creeps in to our minds: Yes, this is it, grazing cows near the humble-sized family farms is the way. More …

And not because in some countries they are continuously dying out, being bit-by-bit (or bite-by-bite?) replaced by impersonal meat factories and their polished products in shiny supermarkets. Yet, I’ve never stopped by a meat department with its “lush”-looking offer either. And there is no PA or a family member who goes shopping and buys meat instead of me either.