It’s Not Meat, It’s You – Third time’s the charm

Here’s hoping, anyway. That’s right, this is my third attempt at vegetarianism. Fourth, if you want to get really technical, but there’s no reason to go ahead and ruin a perfectly good cliché. Here’s the thing: if you think I’m picky now because I can’t eat onions, sushi, rare meat, etc., you have no idea how picky I was growing up.

When I was a kid in grade school, the only vegetables I remember eating with any regularity were carrot sticks and sliced cucumbers, and more often than not, I would conveniently “forget” to eat them if my mom didn’t remind me. I wouldn’t eat tomato sauce until I was in third or fourth grade. I don’t think I ever ate broccoli until probably somewhere towards the end of my middle school years, and when I did, it was that frozen kind that comes covered in gloopy cheese sauce. If I really want to embarrass myself, I’ll tell you that the first time I ate a green bean I was 17, and that to this day I still have never taken a single bite of asparagus.

So it should be of no surprise when I say that the first time I tried to go vegetarian at 14, it lasted all of a week. And really, it’s probably a good thing I didn’t let my stubbornness get the best of me, because with my eating habits at that time, I would most certainly have made myself ill. Pizza, baked potatoes, and mac and cheese do not a healthy vegetarian make. Having only the most basic knowledge of what healthy eating was about, I quickly realized I was in over my head and went back to eating meat.

The idea stuck with me though. Around a year later, right before we made our move to South Korea, I found myself at the Hurricane House with my parents, eating a chicken cheesesteak, thinking, why am I eating this? I told my parents, “After this, I think I’m done with meat.” Being the laid-back people that they are, I’m pretty sure the answer I got back was “Alright.”

This is where I get into technicalities; I didn’t properly give up meat at this point. When we moved, we spent at least the first couple of months in a hotel, which kept cooking to an obvious minimum. I continued to eat meat a few times a week because I knew I still wasn’t able to maintain a vegetarian diet and a healthy protein intake. I didn’t know what that healthy amount was, but I had a feeling I wasn’t going to meet it with the occasional bowl of red beans and rice from Popeye’s (which, when I think about it today, I am sure had meat in it anyway). I wasn’t about to start experimenting with tofu, either.

Then, I read an article in Rolling Stone called “From the Slaughterhouse to the Grill; The Dirty Secrets of Fast Food,” which informed me of the horrifyingly disgusting practices of the meat industry in general, which was, believe it or not, a huge shock to me. Then, I had “The Dream.”

I won’t go into too many details about said dream, but I will tell you it involved a puppy, a knife, and me throwing up. You can go ahead and say this had something to do with the fact that I had just moved to a place where people really do eat dogs, but I’m pretty sure at that point in my life I was ignorant enough to think that was just a myth. Back to the point at hand: after that dream, I gave up meat for real.

I won’t say my diet at that point was much better than before, but I made an effort at the very least to eat more fruits and vegetables. My good friend Annie, who recently guest clacked for us, used to accuse me of eating rabbit food because of the cheese, lettuce and carrot on oat bread sandwich I brought to school for lunch nearly every day. The day I caved and ate some chicken nuggets around a year later, she was like a proud momma. Those chicken nuggets, of course, put me on a downward spiral back into full time meat eating.

Fast forward to last year. Glutton for punishment that I am, I just had to watch the video of those idiots trying to force downer cattle up to their feet with forklifts so they could go to slaughter. While it was no fun to watch, it did get me thinking. And the more I thought, the more sense it made not to be a part of the problem. So it went, from cutting down on beef, to giving it up, to giving up pork as well. Finally, I decided I had the necessary knowledge and cooking skills to give up meat entirely and still be healthy and happy with what I ate.

I’m glad I’m taking it slowly this time and not jumping in headfirst; I’m still learning a lot along the way. When I do take that final step, I want it to be for good.