I went back and read my post, then your reply above. Then I went back and read each word in my post and each word of your reply to it, above.
Color me confused. Did you hit the Reply link on my post by mistake? 
Posted on 02/18/2003 2:19:47 AM PST by MadIvan
I was brought up vegetarian, and remained that way until relatively recently, when a visit to Paris inspired me to move over to the carnivorous side of the culinary divide.
And since then, I've been catching up I've tried pretty much everything from hamburgers to snails to steak tartare. I've found that while chicken and turkey leave my taste buds cold, nothing can beat a medium rare fillet steak, preferably washed down with a glass of red.
My life as a vegetarian started when my parents took a trip to Amsterdam. I would have been about six at the time, left behind with my two sisters.
Rather than trying out psychedelic drugs like any sensible free-from-the-kids parents would have done (it was the 70s after all), my parents had to land in a restaurant where they tasted vegetarian food for the first time. It was called The Golden Dawn and they're a bit hazy on any other details "they wore robes and had turbans" is all they'll say.
Anyway, after that meal they swore never to eat meat again and they've never looked back at a fry-up with regret. My sisters and I had to go along with it we went from being a meat and two veg family, to being a veg family.
It's not like meat was a taboo in my house. I don't remember ever feeling guilty for stuffing down sausages at friends' parties; in fact I never missed the opportunity. But gradually, as I got into my teens, I established vegetarian convictions of my own. I wanted to be a vegetarian (didn't know any better, I like to think now) and I thought it was wrong to kill animals for food.
Like my parents (smoked salmon vegetarians if ever there were any) I continued to eat fish. Logical? Not really. But you can fall back on that argument that fish don't feel pain, so you don't actually hurt them by having them killed to feed you.
If you eat fish, visits to restaurants are much more enjoyable; you don't have to settle for the dreaded 'vegetarian dish' always a mushy amalgam of vegetables drenched in melted cheese.
I wasn't one of those vegetarians who felt the urge to lecture meat-eaters about the wrongness of their ways. But I did find that friends had certain expectations of me as a vegetarian. That I was terribly sensitive about butchers, for example. So they would practically shield my eyes from the carcasses when we passed a butcher's van. But really I was not offended by the sight of meat hanging up after all I didn't eat the stuff.
If, by accident, I ate a dish that contained meat stock or some small pieces of meat, they would also expect that I would a) be traumatised and b) get sick. Neither ever happened to me and I never had an upset tummy as a result of eating a stray piece of meat.
On the down side, dinner parties can be quite fraught. You run a couple of risks if you don't know the host, because they may not know that you're a vegetarian. You have two choices: you can alert them, so that they can make a dish that will suit you. Or you can wing it and hope that it won't matter. There you run the risk that they'll have to spend the whole evening in the kitchen rustling up a quick omelette for you. Either way, it's a hassle.
And so it went despite a year spent living in Paris (so many missed opportunities), I stuck to my vegetarian guns.
But gradually, after about 20 years as a vegetarian, I found my convictions leaving me it was frankly boring living off vegetables and I was missing out on so many wonderful classic French recipes and combinations.
And so to breaking point. I had been feeling run-down for months and I was pining for a change. I cracked in Normandy, on a work trip. I was offered a choice: a slice of pork sizzling straight from the oven or over-cooked vegetables accompanied by crackers and cheese. That first forkful of pork was sheer heaven.
The next day I set out on a voyage of discovery first stop snails in a local restaurant in nearby Brittany. The snails had been marinated in Pernod, and tasted slippery, salty and very very boozy. They went down a treat.
On to Paris, where I had the best steak of my life. It was small but perfectly formed a fillet steak, medium rare, served with pepper sauce, accompanied by pommes dauphinoises and a side order of grilled leeks. I was amazed and thrilled that the dish could be so small and yet so perfectly balanced and leave me feeling so sated the experience was unforgettable.
I've tried brains (not recommended on health or aesthetic grounds), I've tried confit de canard (delicious, duck cooked in its own fat). Hell, I even tried tripe on my last trip to France (looks like fish, tastes stale ugh). So I like to think I've been very thorough in my explorations of the world of meat.
And I can definitely conclude that it's better to eat meat it tastes amazing, it combines brilliantly with herbs and wine and it really does open up a new world to your taste buds.
Somewhere along the way of my exploration of the aesthetics of meat, I realised that I really didn't care that animals were dying in order to keep me content with my diet. Well, to be a bit more nuanced about it, I'd like them to have been kept humanely before being killed.
And now that it's easy to get organic, free-range meat at some shops and restaurants, there's really no more excuse for being a vegetarian any more.
All of my vegan friends look like death warmed over and they catch every ailment that comes down the pike.
I've know all of them since the 60's but they really started going downhill when they became vegetarians and it happened quite rapidly. I was one of them but quickly saw that the vegetarian way was not really "healthy" like its advocates claimed, but was actually quite the opposite.
Went back to moderate amounts of meat in my diet (my appetite usually guides me correctly...that's what it's there for) and have maintained tha same weight within 3 pounds and the same healthy blood pressure for over 20 years.
I still eat a lot of veggies, but I don't don't treat meat like it's the worst thing that ever happened.
GAAAAAAAKKKK! I tried one once as an experiment. Ghastly! I didn't expect it to taste like meat, but I expected it to at least taste like food!
Makes me stop and think allright...there were many famous bipolars as well, but I definitely would not recommend it as a healthy lifestyle.
Louis Figuier tells the following story about a classic Newton dinner party: "Newton's friend Dr. Stukely came to dinner with him. After waiting a long time for him to come out of his study, the doctor decided to help himself to some of the chicken that was already on the table. When he had finished, he left the remains of the bird on the plate and covered it with the silver cover. At the end of several hours, Newton finally made his appearance, saying that he was very hungry. He sat down at the table and lifted the cover from the chicken, but when he saw the carcass, "I thought," he cried, "I had not yet dined. I see I was mistaken."
My friend and I were discussing just that fact over the weekend...she stated that all the vegetarians she knows are pale and their hair is dull, they just don't look healthy, and she should know, she consistently hangs out with what I call health nuts. Her and I both eat very little meat, but for me, it is more a matter of texture and taste rather than health or ideology.
I went back and read my post, then your reply above. Then I went back and read each word in my post and each word of your reply to it, above.
Color me confused. Did you hit the Reply link on my post by mistake?
Reasons aren't excuses.
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