On Eating

On eating: I decided two months ago that I would stop eating meat. I had seen too many videos, and understood too the cruelty of the people that are responsible for the animals that wind up in attractive patties, links, and slices in our food. It was not a difficult decision. If you know nothing of the food industry, check out the documentary Food Inc.

So I went a month without eating meat – I decided to keep this fact to myself save a few coworkers who practice veganism and vegetarianism. It was peculiar, I thought, that I did not want to share this fact. I was somewhat proud of having made this decision, and felt good that there we no longer bits of animals floating around in my body. But I knew I would be ostracized. Especially by the guys. Some of the guys couldn’t care less, but others, like my boss, claimed that he was “disappointed in me”. All of this is quite absurd – but it’s worth noting that there is a certain amount of disdain and even malice towards non-meat-eaters.

After a month, I bargained with myself, I will congratulate myself with a slab of red meat. And I did. I went to a burger bar that a friend had opened a few months ago, and I ordered a standard deluxe burger. The burgers are available as made-to-order options, with an endless array of combinations. You could order, for instance, a hormone free beef patty, tossed in Kona Crust, amish gorgonzola, siriracha remoulade, a fried egg, grilled pineapple, cucumbers and baby spinach. I decided to experience the meat (and standard burgers were half off after 9).

The meat was brown. It smelled smoky and delicious. My mouth was watering. I bit into the burger. I chewed. It was smoky. It was…okay? I ate slowly as to taste every chewy, red morsel. I felt the soft, yet resistant texture. I finished eating the burger. I was surprised at how underwhelmed I was. So that was the burger, I thought. I paid my bill and went home. I was very tired (perhaps sedative effects of two hoppy beers).

One very interesting aspect of diet is that people demand to label themselves. Online, people argue, “If you eat FISH you are NOT a VEGETARIAN!” as if the food you eat registers you to some higher domain. At the bottom of the latter there are the carnivores, those animal-abusing murderers whose tongues lash at the salt and blood of the lamb. Next, you have your pescatarians, those who affiliate themselves as equals with the beasts, yet have no mercy for the poor noble fellows of the sea. Then you have your vegetarians and vegans. Vegans! The most honorable of them all. Their shopping carts absent of cheese or milk. Fresh, organic produce shining as they stroll down aisle A.

But all of this labeling, I find, is beside the point. I am not sure, though I am interested, in why these labels are necessary. It is eating! Granted, what you eat is symbolic of how you identify yourself – and we are all certainly struggling to find ourselves in this world, but these labels seem absurd, and often make people feel guilty. If you’re a vegan, yet you can’t deny a deliciously greasy slice of cheese pizza, you’ll feel guilty afterwards for having broken your commitment. But if you see food as food, and eat with common sense and an awareness of its origins, and you can swallow your food along with your sense of morality, then you’re doing what’s right for you.