It only takes a generation...
My paternal grandparents had a small piece of rural property and had a garden, chickens, and meat cows. My parents lived right next door and ate the cows and chickens from their farm, but they mostly shopped at the grocery store for their food. We only ate "real food" from grandma's house. Oh how wonderful the hamburger was, and how rich the milk was! I was only 5, but I remember.
Anyway, one day, a chicken truck passed by on the interstate in front of our house. We lived in a white house off of I-85 in SC, just south of the "Peach." House is still there. So, a hen fell off the truck and my brother and sisters quickly adopted it as a "pet" and named it Henrietta. My maternal grandmother came from Germany to visit, and while they were at school she fixed dinner. Guess who was dinner? The kids were appalled that you would eat a "pet" and refused to eat dinner.
It only takes a generation not raised on a farm or even around one to be ignorant. I lived in a very rural town where I thought everyone was a farmer. One day, a kid at high school mentioned that cows don't have hair. "They feel like a wallet, you know, smooth," he informed me. Either his dad was breeding some funky wallet cows, or he'd never been close to one his whole life. I thought it was funny, but he lived in a farm town and was ignorant. What would you expect of "city folks" when they say chickens stink. And the chicken farms most certainly DO!