Fake meat Thursday

I'm a lifelong vegetarian, and my standard explanation for why is "I was born this way and we don't know why." Which is absolutely true. I'm from the meat-and-potatoes belt of America. I did not grow up with hippies or on a commune. I grew up with "normal" meat-eating people, yet even as a small child they had a hard time getting me to eat meat. The only exception to that rule was that I'd agree to eat the occasional McDonald's hamburger (I know, I know) but often mid-hamburger, I'd get sick and not be able to finish it. There was also a phase in college where I lived above a Burger King and I'd actually eat a Whopper Junior late night after the bars. Aside from that, I've never eaten any other kinds of meat or fish. Sometimes people will say "But could you eat chicken?" or "Could you eat fish?" Yes, I "could" (I have no particular religion or life philosophy stopping me - I always emphasize this because if I don't people will point out smugly that my shoes are leather or there's suede detailing on my jacket) eat those things but I would vomit. It's like saying "Could you eat cat?" or "Could you eat dog?" The idea of eating meat is unfathomable to me and no amount of people rubbing their tummies emphatically for my benefit at the dinner table or saying "Mmm, mmm good" or "You don't know what you are missing" while they eat prosciutto or a steak makes meat any more appetizing. I was born this way. We don't know why.

Over the years, things I've seen and experienced have confirmed my "choice" to not eat meat, the most memorable of which was the time I was walking to the supermarket in Brooklyn and was passing by the back of a hot dog factory when a man in a hairnet came out with an enormous clear plastic bag full of what appeared to be blood-tinged liquid and fleshy entrails. And the contents of the bag were making an undeniable sloshing sound. A SLOSHING sound, people. I was almost too sick to go do the grocery shopping after that. For a long time I could barely buy a soft pretzel from the hot dog vendor guys especially if they tried to use the same tongs to serve up both (I'm a stickler for no tong or utensil sharing where meat is concerned).

So I don't eat hot dogs or prosciutto or steak. I must live on tofu and seitan and texturized soy protein then, right? Uh, no, not really. See if you HATE something, you typically are not tempted to seek out its substitute. If you hate broccoli, you don't go out looking to cook up something that isn't broccoli but looks, tastes and smells like it. I've always thought those fake meats were for vegetarians who secretly disliked being vegetarians. People who eat chicken or a hamburger when nobody else is looking. Which is fine. I'm a purist just because I'm odd (again, we don't know why) and not because I'm any better than the vegetarians who secretly eat meat.

Every Thursday I pop in an organic grocery after my usual Thursday lunchtime meeting, and lately I've been making a stop in the tofu and fake meat aisle. All of the vegetarian pregnancy diets recommend these things as a great source of calcium and protein so I've been experimenting with tofu cutlets (like the above with corn and paprika) and they are actually pretty good. They are not too "meaty" or "gamey" and certainly not "hot dog sloshy." Tonight I'm making fake meat cutlets, a spinach salad with almonds, and green beans and potatoes cooked in our homemade tomato salsa.