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We bought six black Angus for our farm in Vermont based solely upon my opinion that they looked beautiful on a hillside. And they did. Their black shiny coats stood out like diamonds in the rough against a green pasture.

Anyone who owns animals has some funny (and not so funny) stories to tell, and we were no exception. On the day we went to purchase our first Angus, we followed the farmer’s wife to look at the girls in a pasture, not realizing a bull was in with them. The woman, showing us the cows, said, “don’t worry about him, he won’t bother you.”  (famous last words, of course) Well, bulls really aren’t known for their calm temperament.  He took one look at us, thought we were infringing on his turf, and snorted. I thought we got out of there pretty fast after he started pawing the ground and steaming towards us.

We bought six Angus that day. And they were beautiful on the hillside. We also bought two steers to raise for meat. My kids named the steers Tuf Tuf and Babyface and they were really cute until they started getting big. While naming animals has never stopped me from consuming them, my daughter was distraught, declared herself a vegetarian, and never sampled the wonderful steaks we got after they reached their ultimate destination a couple of years later.

Anyhow, the call came just as I was leaving for an appointment. It was my neighbor asking if we owned a black bull—a call, a novice or any farmer wants to answer. My heart did a couple of flip-flops, I thought about saying no. After all, my husband and nephew were living it up and vacationing in Hawaii (a story for another day) and I was alone. What the heck was I going to do? The Angus terrified me. However, I promised to meet the owner of the heifers to get Ralphie out.

It turned out our loaner bull, Ralphie, had run away during the night and was visiting the heifers (read virgins) across the street.

When Ralphie first arrived on our farm, his owner told us Ralphie was a real pussycat and would come when called, which he occasionally did. He must have been on his best behavior in our fields because when I went over to the neighbor’s field and called the wayward bull, he wouldn’t budge.

We summoned the heifers by shaking grain, and they all trotted out of the woods looking very content, followed by one extremely happy bull. Ralphie sauntered over and blinked at me with his doe-like eyes that belied the determination on his part that he would not leave his “women.” He didn’t want to leave, so he turned around and trotted back into the woods. The ladies followed. Again, we tried. Déjà vu.

We needed reinforcements, since it was getting late and night would be coming soon. Thankfully, our builder was still on the property. I asked him to help. The man was a hunter and extremely handy with animals. With a lot of enthusiasm (remember this is Vermont, not that much happens) he raced over.

A couple of hours later, after trying to coax the bovine Casanova out of the woods to no avail, we gave up and called the veterinarian. He arrived shortly after, slinging a shotgun over his shoulder.  Even though it was way past time for Ralphie’s playdate to end, I thought shooting him seemed a little extreme. It was a relief to find out it was a tranquilizer gun. By then, I realized I had been living too close to the land if my first assumption was killing him.

Anyhow, after several failed attempts to tranquilize the big guy, the vet got in one lucky shot and Ralphie finally eased to the ground. Then and only then, were the three strapping fellows able to put a harness around the sleepy, happy camper, drag him out of the woods and hoist him onto a flatbed to go home (his real home, not ours.)

See, Ralphie was a loaner bull. We tried to impregnate our cows artificially, and after one cow nearly broke both of our vet’s wrists, we decided to do it the old-fashioned way. (Actually, the vet highly suggested it.) I have a feeling farmers are still talking about that situation.

Angus are not the friendliest cows and to tell you the truth, close up they are HUGE.  We never really bonded with them as farmers do with their Holsteins or any milk cow.  They’re not touchy-feely animals. Angus are beef cows and the steaks, roasts, hamburgers, etc are delicious, and I loved knowing where my meat came from. I have great respect for farmers who are raising their animals humanely. Everyone is better off for it.

Years ago, a friend who studied at Cordon bleu gave us this great steak sauce. It makes a lot and can be frozen. Try it, it’s forgiving, and you don’t need exact measurements. Make it your own.  I’m sure you will find lots of uses for it.

Peter’s Steak Sauce:

• 2 Tbsp                   butter
• ½ small                 onion, chopped
• 1 Tbsp                   Dijon mustard
• ½ c                          ketchup
• 2 tsp                      Worcestershire Sauce
•  
• You can adjust any of the ingredients to taste.
• Add the chopped onion to the butter and sauté until soft.
• Add the rest of the ingredients, heat, and serve.