I’m in San Francisco, at an Italian joint just south of Golden Gate Park, enjoying meatballs and bacon not made of meat in the traditional sense but of plants mixed with “cultivated” pork fat. Dawn, you see, donated a small sample of fat, which a company called Mission Barns got to proliferate in devices called bioreactors by providing nutrients like carbohydrates, amino acids, and vitamins—essentially replicating the conditions in her body. Because so much of the flavor of pork and other meats comes from the animal’s fat, Mission Barns can create products like sausages and salami with plants but make them taste darn near like sausages and salami.
I’ve been struggling to describe the experience, because cultivated meat short-circuits my brain—my mouth thinks I’m eating a real pork meatball, but my brain knows that it’s fundamentally different and that Dawn (pictured above) didn’t have to die for it. This is the best I’ve come up with: It’s Diet Meat. Just as Diet Coke is an approximation of the real thing, so too are cultivated meatballs. They simply taste a bit less meaty, at least to my tongue. Which is understandable, as the only animal product in this food is the bioreactor-grown fat.



Or we could you know, leave the fucking animals alone.
Did Dawn explicitly say “I would like to donate my fat”? No? Then it wasn’t a fucking donation. Pretty gross to characterize the story in this way.
That’s ridiculous. You know that’s ridiculous right?
People gonna eat meat. They can eat dead animals or they can eat this stuff. You choose which you prefer
What’s ridiculous is humans unconsensually raping and pillaging living beings for all they are worth just because you think your taste buds and minutes of pleasure outweigh a living breathing being with the capacity to experience. Sorry that my moral compass is more attuned than yours.
You forget the third option, leave animals the fuck alone and eat plants ffs.