So here's the deal: If you know me well, you know that I've had sort of an indifferent relationship with meat for most of my life. There were times I called myself a vegetarian. I was reading a novel recently in which one of the characters referred to herself as a "former carnivore with occasional relapses," and adopted that as the easiest description. But things changed last night when I took a bite of beef and almost gagged. Not my finest moment, but certainly a defining one. Here's the whole story...
I grew up in a fairly meat-and-potatoes household, and mom's chili ALWAYS contained ground beef. As a teenager, I announced to my family that I was no longer eating meat, to their astonishment and indignation. My parents worked very hard to make sure I was healthy and nutritionally fulfilled, and it worked for a while. Until they discovered that I wouldn't eat onions. Or mushrooms. Or tomatoes. Or broccoli. And I wasn't happy about spinach. Needless to say, my picky eating habits limited choices for dinner; soon Mom and Dad got fed up with creative cooking, and I can't say that I blame them. I was a pill. There's a fantastic restaurant in the next town that serves several meatless dishes, and we went there often. Crazy Burger was always quite good at making veggie alternatives to staples like hamburgers that actually tasted great. Dad wasn't as successful and I'm suspicious that at some point they started sneaking in chicken. And that was that - no more meatless meals.
When I got to college, the veggie options were salad bar, salad bar, or salad bar. EVERY DAY. You can only eat so much brown lettuce before you start to go insane. As a matter of survival, I began eating meat again more regularly and discovered just how much easier it was. Hot food is good!
Living on my own was a different story. Meat is all well and good once it's cooked, but raw? Yuck. You mean I have to touch that? Gross. No way. I think I purchased ground beef a total of one time in the two years I lived in my little apartment. (And even that was to make for someone else.) As an adult, I discovered that I did, in fact eat onions and mushrooms (as long as they're cooked). And tomatoes and spinach are some of my favorites. Still not a broccoli fan, however. Even still, I learned that I could cook a variety of things without meat. I discovered Thai and Indian foods made with beans and tofu, and used those as alternatives in stir-fry and other meals. It felt good to make dinner for myself and not be disgusted by the process.
Lately, I've been leaning towards an all-veggie diet again for several reasons. I went nearly 2 weeks without eating meat and didn't even realize it. Twice. I've never been a big consumer of meat to begin with - certainly not within the past 2 or 3 years - so cutting it out is tremendously easy. When I think about the reasons why I don't like handling raw meat, it comes down to the fact that it's muscle. Plain and simple. And sometimes it even has fat around the edges. No, thank you. Finally, as I'm coming around to vet school applications and trying to finish my Master's degree before I go, I'm finding that I'm not as healthy as I thought I was. My allergies are worse than ever, and despite the fact that I'm running almost daily (again, another thing I dropped in college for no good reason) I feel heavy. My energy level is in the basement. With all that, I've decided to go veggie again, and see where it takes me. Pat is mostly on board after reading The China Study, and we even bought some tofu! Now all I have to do is tackle the 700+ page vegetarian cookbook (encyclopedia is more like it) and try some new stuff. Fun adventure.
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