"It's Cut Up Really Small"

"Excuse me, Miss, is there any meat in this bean casserole?"

"Yes, there is, honey, but it's cut up really small."

Um...okey-dokey.

As a vegetarian for the past twenty-eight years (I eat dairy so I would be classified as a lacto-ovo - from the Latin for "milk" and "egg" - vegetarian, if you're looking for labels), I have had some variation of this conversation literally hundreds of times.  I find myself at someone's house, an afternoon picnic or a potluck dinner; and I have to play food detective to determine what's on the menu that I am or am not able to eat.

Many times - especially in the South (where my in-laws reside) or the East Coat (where I worked for years) - simply asking if a dish does or does not contain some type of meat is not enough.  I can't tell you how many times - in homes and in restaurants - I have asked if a dish had meat only to have the host or server respond, "Only bacon, but it's cut up really small" or "Only ham, but it's cut up really small." 

I never inquired about the portion sizes of the meat.  When did the size of a piece of food negate its existence?  A small piece of bacon is just as much bacon as a huge piece of bacon.  I am quite certain that if you were dining with cannibals and were trying to avoid their diet, the explanation that the soup does contain human flesh, "But it's cut up really small" wouldn't exactly be comforting.

I then am forced into answering a series of long-winded questions of what the restrictions of my diet are (no animal flesh), the different types of vegetarians, how I get my protein, how long have I been a vegetarian, how do I get enough to eat, and then hear the tedious story of their neighbor or Aunt who is a vegetarian, but she eats fish and chicken, and on and on. 

It's a conversation I've had so often that I am sick and tired of it.  I just don't want to go through it anymore.  I am not evangelical about being a vegetarian and have zero interest in converting or educating anyone else about a vegetarian diet.  I would just like to eat something without meat.  End of story.  I don't ask every carnivore I meet why they eat meat.  I couldn't care less.  Now would you please move your lard ass out of the way so I can have a second helping of the bean casserole?  It's delicious.

But for the record:

"Lacto-ovo vegetarians eat dairy products, but no animal flesh or fat.  Vegans don't eat animal products of any kind."

"There are numerous ways to get plenty of protein without eating meat.  Read a book."

"I have not eaten meat since 1983.  How long have you been a carnivore?  No, I don't miss it.  It's not a struggle.  I am not like a recovering addict."

"Anyone can take one look at me and tell I get plenty to eat.  I have never gone hungry."

"Your Aunt who says she is a vegetarian but eats fish and chicken is, in fact, NOT a vegetarian of any type or kind, but someone who doesn't eat red meat, and frankly, sounds more than a bit annoying."

I started dropping meat from my diet when I was working full time and running distance races.  I would come home late from work and have to go out for a training run.  It was tough to run after a heavy meal of meat, but I could do it if I left out the meat.  I knew several friends in Los Angeles who were vegetarians at the time, and learned how they did it.  It is easy to do in California with a plentiful supply of fresh produce and good vegetarian restaurants, and even most ordinary restaurants offer vegetarians options.  

As someone who was a flight attendant for eighteen years, I used to dread going out to dinner with a new crew because at some point, usually just after ordering our meals, someone would ask me if I was a vegetarian and then I would be forced to go in to my well-rehearsed spiel.  I hated it.  It was tedious and boring.

What was fascinating when I was put in the position of being "outed" as a vegetarian is how quickly it put many people on the defensive.  Two or three people at the table would invariably say something like "I should do that" or "I tried it once for a couple of months and couldn't do it."

Guess what?  I know that I would be healthier and probably live longer if I didn't eat ice cream and chocolate.  You know why I don't drop them from my diet?  Because I LOVE ice cream and chocolate.  Yes, I would gladly marry either one.  Do I worry about it?  Not one bit.  Never occurred to me until I wrote this sentence and it will be forgotten before I finish this paragraph.  What were we talking about?

I have a suggestion for those of you out there who are proud carnivores and love your meat - and this is coming from a longtime vegetarian - have at it!  I couldn't care less.  Do I believe a vegetarian diet is more efficient and less wasteful?  Of course it is!  Is it cheaper?  You bet!  Do I believe it's cruel to kill animals to eat?  In some cases I'm sure animals are cruelly treated to put cheap meat on our tables, but I'm not losing any sleep over it.  I have no problems wearing leather, as any regular visitor of Folsom Street is well aware.  Get over it and leave me alone.

The reaction I received when I was living in Ireland was also interesting.  Even though there are numerous cultures and religions around the world that engage in vegetarian diets, they are usually not in wealthy, industrialized countries.  Eating large portions of meat on a daily basis is a tremendous sign of wealth.  A country like Ireland - which literally was so poor in the 1840's that the era is now referred to as The Great Famine - can't help but hold the opinion anyone who would voluntarily give up meat must be a little nuts.

My Irish Mom, bless her heart, was always going out of her way to cook me something "extra" to replace the meat everyone else was eating.  I was fine with everything but the meat.  She would question why I ate dairy products as a vegetarian, and I would explain because I was a "Pro-choice" vegetarian.  That was not a concept an Irish Catholic mother could easily grasp.

(Each time I would come home from school in Dublin and see the latest dairy delivery sitting out on the front porch - milk, butter, cream and a jar of orange juice - I would ask my Irish family which part of the cow the orange juice came from.)

Pie?

I hope this settles this whole vegetarian thing for a while.  I'm fine and I'm not going to try and push my personal choice on anyone else.  So if it's okay with you, let's drop it and return to our meal.

Now who wants pie?

(Note: Today's post is dedicated to my friend Joe - yes, a vegetarian - and his sister Tina.)