I don’t remember the exact date that I stopped eating meat. (I do know my “vegan-versary,” however.) What I do remember: it was a Sunday evening, much like this one, in July 1989. It was the summer before ninth grade, and I was thirteen. My mother was preparing some chicken for dinner, and I watched as she cut the fat off the meat.
It was what I call a ‘lightbulb’ moment.
If she cut the fat off the chicken leg, what’s the part we’re eating? It’s the muscle. The part that helps the chicken walk.
I didn’t eat chicken that night. Or ever again.
If she were still around, Mom would tell you she believed this initially to be a phase. (It was a phase, on the way to veganism!) She humored me that night when I ate only the mashed potatoes. And I think maybe there was corn.
Thus began a lifetime of explaining my food choices to anyone who happened to be near me at mealtime.
I don’t want to make it sound as if I resent the questions; I don’t mind genuine curiosity(My former boss that used to offer to pay me to take a bite of a burger? That’s a different story.). I understand that abstaining from meat is still considered unusual by many, although we have come a long way since 1989. But if you had to answer the same question over and over for a couple of decades, sometimes multiple times a day, I think you can agree that it would get old pretty quickly.
Here’s the best analogy I’ve got:
It’s like sitting in a dimly lit room. Your eyes are accustomed to the level of light and it seems normal to you. Then, someone comes in and turns on the lights, and you see all the things you couldn’t see before. There was nothing wrong with you or your perception sitting there before the lights came on, but now, if you were to turn them back off, you’d know you’re sitting in the dark. I can’t un-know what I know, and I can’t go back to eating meat. It’s just like that. Like a light switch.
So, since I don’t know the exact date of that fateful July Sunday, I’m celebrating tonight — with mashed potatoes.
I use an old-fashioned hand masher, though. Partly because it’s easier than dragging out machinery, and partly because I don’t care if there are lumps. And yes, I leave the skin on, because, you know, that’s how I roll(and who can be bothered peeling potatoes?).
The final product, complete with gravy. (What? Vegan gravy?!?)
