I was raised on a ranch in Montana, we were very poor, I was the oldest of 9 kids, it was my job to provide meat for the family-- I raised rabbits, and chickens, a pig now and then, and hunted a lot- --One time I had found nothing to bring home and went back out to work in the field, out there I found a porcupine and killed it with a wrench that was on the tractor, I skinned and cleaned it and took it in the house, -- Mom asked me what it was, -- I told her what it was, -she said "can we eat that"? I said yes, -so-- she put it in a big roasting pan, and filled it up the rest of the way with potato, carrots, etc. cooked it and put it on the table-- my siblings devoured it and said it was the best-- when told what it was [after dinner] my brother just asked if I could find any more of them. Mom would not eat any of it-- she just put a few potatoes, and carrots on her plate, -- sat quietly at the table watching the show, and shaking her head.
----now days I don't eat very much meat, if I have some once or twice a week I am just fine.