Dee's A Vegetarian Now: FAQs

Hello, my darling invisible/imaginary followers!

I was determined to make a post I’ve been promising—about the night I cross-dressed—but it’s proving to be quite the flaming bitch; mostly tonal shift issues. So here’s something else.

I’ve been a vegetarian for 24 days now, and I really didn’t think it was going to be a big deal. Vegetarianism has never been odd to me. My mother has been a vegetarian for as long as I can remember, and my brother made the switch in high school. Currently, there isn’t a single restaurant in my town that doesn’t have multiple vegetarian and even vegan options on their menus. No waiter blinks stupidly at me when I ask if they can make this or that dish without meat. I even sometimes order lunch from a vegan restaurant down the street from work. Vegetarianism just isn’t odd in my little blue speck of a city in Ohio.

For many friends of mine, however, vegetarianism is still an alien concept. I’m truly surprised by how many questions I’ve gotten, how many extremely dated jokes have been thrown at me (seriously, guys, come up with some new material,) and how threatened some people seem to be by my diet change. It’s so strange. My Christian friends don’t care that I’m an atheist, my conservative friends put up with my liberal ranting, but something about me deciding not to eat meat anymore seems to upset many of my omnivores. I’ve noticed that they make offhand excuses as to why they aren’t vegetarian, or they suddenly express great concern about how I’ll be able to get enough this-or-that nutrient without meat (where’s your concern when I go on my Flamin’ Hot Cheeto and Oreo binges?)

So, rather than constantly having to answer the same questions, I figured I’d just compose a little FAQ page that I will arrogantly link to whenever my vegetarianism is brought up in conversation. Because that’s a great way to keep a dialogue going, am I right?

Anyway, without further clunky introductions:

DEE’S A VEGETARIAN: FAQs

1. But, like, why, though?

            After a lot of thinking, I decided that I ultimately wasn’t comfortable with the idea of another living creature dying for my consumption of their flesh. It’s really that simple. Environmental factors and the treatment of the animals are important to consider, too, but even if those factors weren’t on the table, I still wouldn’t be comfortable with eating meat. I don’t care if the chicken was free-range, if the beef was grass-fed, or if the animals were loved and coddled before being slaughtered. It’s the fact that the animal has to die for me to eat them—and that I don’t need to eat them to be healthy—that makes me not want to eat meat. So I don’t. It really is that simple.

2. But it’s the natural order! They’re just animals! We bred them to be eaten! Rabble rabble rabble!

            Believe what you want, honey. My personal choice not to eat meat, my personal discomfort with an animal dying for my consumption, isn’t an attack on your diet or your beliefs. I repeat: MY CHOICE OF DIET IS NOT A JUDGMENT ON YOUR CHOICE OF DIET. I would love for people to eat less meat for environmental, ethical, and scientific reasons, but I’m firmly in the “you do you” camp of living. If you like meat, eat meat. I don’t care any more than I care if you choose to drink nothing but pop or smoke cigarettes or spend your free time sitting on your ass playing video games. Those are your choices honey. I’d love for all of my friends to be healthy, sure, but I’m not your mom, nor am I tyrannical Queen of America (yet.) So long as you’re not hurting anyone else…You. Do. You.

            Though I will say this: If the fact that someone, somewhere, eats differently than you do, gets your testies all in a twist…if you’re that idiot who posts memes about putting milk in soy lattes or throwing bacon on a veggie burger in a restaurant…that might be something you should stop and think about. Why does someone else’s diet bother you so much, when it has nothing to do with you? If it just boils down to the inferred attitude (vegetarians/vegans are assholes who think they’re better than me!) maybe you should stop worrying about what other people think and live your life, you snowflake.

3. But how will you get your protein?

            Beans. Legumes. Eggs. Yogurt. Hummus. I make a fucking delicious quinoa chili that my meat-eating hubby practically inhales. The average American actually eats more protein than they need. Protein isn’t really difficult to find or consume.

            Better question—why do you suddenly care about my protein intake? Do you want me to start asking you if you’ve eaten your 6.5 cups of vegetables today? Didn’t think so. How about we both agree not to be one another’s nutritionist. Sound good?

4. Is it harder to go out to eat?

I'm not vegan, but this is still hilarious.

            As I mentioned before, I live in a bit of a vegetarian haven, at least for my state. It is still odd to go, “Yeah, let’s eat at that one place we always do! Oh, wait, wait. Do they have vegetarian options?” When we wanted to go out to a Viking-themed bar in the area (right?!) we actually called to ask if they had any vegetarian options on their menu (answer, yes, a third of their menu was vegetarian, and dude, their vegan gnocchi is out of this fucking world.)

            Once we travel outside of our little cultural bubble, I imagine it will get a bit tougher. Certain restaurants, like barbecue and burger joints, are heavily meat-focused. Many sushi places only have one veggie roll. I’m not going to lie—the prospect of choking down salads (I hate salads, guys) or picking my way through the sides menu doesn’t sound like a lot of fun. But for me, a boring meal here or there at some chain restaurant is a minuscule downside to the decision I’ve made for myself.

            I will admit that I do feel badly about friends and family feeling that they have to accommodate me. I feel bad that my in-laws may have to re-think their dinner plans if I visit, for example. But I think that will all fade with time, after we’ve all had time to adjust to this. I don’t want anyone to have to change their plans for me, so I’m perfectly fine with eating corn muffins and green beans at a barbecue or picking the chicken out of my mother-in-law’s pasta and giving it to my husband. That might be a deal-breaker for some, and that’s fine, again, you do you, but I’m okay with it.

5. Your poor husband!

            I hate this one. I really hate this one. First off, it’s sexist, flat out. It insinuates that I’m in control of my husband’s diet because I’m the wife and I do the cooking and the cleaning and the housework. Secondly, it insinuates that a personal decision that I made for myself naturally extends to my husband, who is a completely separate person with his own preferences and agency. I mean…seriously, what the fuck. Hubby eats meat when he wants to. Luckily, he’s open-minded enough to eat many of the vegetarian meals I enjoy. My decision to eat differently has fuck all to do with his dietary choices.

            To be fair, though, there has been a shift toward more fruits and vegetables in his diet because they’re in the fridge/on the table far more often than they were before. But I fail to see 1, how that’s a bad thing, and 2, how that is restricting him from cooking himself a steak if he wants it.

6. What do you eat at home/what if you don’t feel like cooking?

            I lumped these two together because one often follows the other. I like to cook. I have learned that that isn’t an incredibly common trait in my generation. For me, cooking is fun. It’s therapeutic. It’s creative. Some days I want nothing more than to come home, throw on a podcast or an audiobook, and spend two hours in the kitchen making a big meal. It’s something I enjoy, so it’s something I make time for, and I know that I have quite the advantage as a vegetarian because of that.

            Some of my favourite dinners include ginger miso noodle soup, chickpea and broccoli burritos, pasta of all sorts (I am Italian, after all,) cheese and veggie risottos, and my aforementioned quinoa chili. I will be gleefully posting recipes on this blog soon enough, if anyone’s curious. I find recipes on Pinterest and I love the Thug Kitchen books (despite their “edgy” shtick.)

            For those who don’t like to cook, I understand that being a vegetarian can be hard, or unhealthy. It’s really easy to order a cheese pizza and call it a day. I certainly have my lazy days, too. Because of this, I’ve started delving into frozen foods for the first time. I’m not talking Lean Cuisine, though. I mean Gardein, Beyond Meat, and my mom’s beloved brand, Morning Star (my brother and I lovingly referred to her Morning Star veggie burgers as “Satan Burgers.” You know, “morning star,” Lucifer, Satan…? Shut up, we were brilliant.) A couple of days ago, I popped Morning Star’s Parmesan Garlic faux-chicken nuggets into the oven (SATAN NUGGETS!) and they were delicious. Even on lazy days, I do like to put at least some fresh food or healthy grains alongside the frozen entrees—brown rice with Gardein’s Mandarin Chick’n, for example—but some days, I just eat fake chicken nuggets with loads of ketchup. “Vegetarian” doesn’t always have to mean “healthy.”

            For my laziest of lazy days (or my too-poor-to-get-groceries days,) my rather unhealthy M.O has remained unchanged: Noodles, butter, some spice, some cheese. Zero nutritional value, but hey, my tummy is full.

7. What about leather/non-food animal products?

Full disclosure--I did not fact check this.

            This is a fair question, given the reason I’ve given up eating meat. The answer is—I do want to consume less animal products in general, and I consider becoming vegetarian as a sort of “Step 1.” The rest of the process will be very gradual—checking labels and going with the non-animal option when we can afford it, etc. I do know that it is near goddamn impossible to live a life without animal products. I just want to reduce where I can.


7b. Does that mean you’ll eventually go vegan?

            Eventually—and I’m talking over the course of a decade or so—I would like my diet to be primarily 80/20 vegan. I don’t think it is possible for me to become 100% vegan for life for a multitude of reasons. Veganism is admirable, but it is an extremely difficult diet to keep up long-term, and I don’t want to set myself up for failure. However, I already explore vegan food, vegan restaurants, and vegan cookbooks (the aforementioned Thug Kitchen books are vegan.) For Thanksgiving, I made a vegan chocolate pie and it was fucking bomb. A great deal of my favourite dinners are vegan until I add cheese or sour cream to them. There is a lot of overlap in the vegan and vegetarian diet, and I don’t mind choosing a vegan option when it’s available. So…someday I would like to be mostly vegan in my day-to-day diet, but never full-blown.

8. What about family recipes?

            Being Italian, I have a number of family recipes handed down over generations. Many of them involve meat. And this is where I’m going to irritate some people: I’m not going to change those recipes when I make them. Some things are sacred, and to not start my Grandma Vicky’s sauce with simmering pork neck bones would simply be heresy.

8b. BUT THEN YOU’RE NOT A REAL VEGETARIAN/WHAT ABOUT YOUR ETHICS/WHY EVEN BOTHER THEN/*HEAD EXPLODES*

            Kids, this is my diet. Not a political statement. Not a hashtag. Not a cult. Not bragging rights. Not an example I’m setting for others. This is how I choose to eat. And how I choose to eat is to not eat meat, except for a scant few recipes or circumstances. Just because there’s pork juice in my Nonna’s Sunday gravy doesn’t mean I have to prostrate myself before the vegetarian gods and have them proclaim me a heretic. If you don’t want to call me a vegetarian, that’s fine. You don’t have to. I’m calling myself a vegetarian because that’s the way I’ll be eating 99.9999% of the time. I don’t wear the term like a suit of self-righteous armor. I get it if you don’t want to call me a vegetarian. I’m still going to because “I’m vegetarian except for my Grandma’s pasta sauce” is irrelevant when I’m ordering the Edgar Allen Poe at Dewey’s.

            Will I budge on this rule of mine? Yes. I’ll eventually experiment with old family recipes and add a “vegetarian option” to the old book. But as of right now, 2018, 24 days into my vegetarian life, I’m vegetarian—except for my Grandma’s pasta sauce.

            You may now pick up the pieces of your brain from the floor.

9. I’d be a vegetarian, but I don’t have time to cook/can’t for health reasons/I cook for my family and they’d riot.

            Okay, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t care.

I’m still a bit baffled by the amount of knee-jerk defensive reactions I receive when I mention that I am going vegetarian this year. It’s like I said I’m going to donate half of my salary to charity, and everyone’s like, ‘oh well I can’t do that because…’

Once again, my diet isn’t a political statement, or some lofty standard to which I hold everyone around me. If you want to be a vegetarian, be a vegetarian. If you don’t or can’t, don’t. If you want to try it out and are looking for pointers, I’d be happy to let you know what I’m doing. But please don’t feel the need to defend your dietary choices around me, because I really, really don’t care how you feed yourself. I can’t stress this enough: You. Do. You.

10. BUT BACON IS DELICIOUS.

            You’re boring. Go sit in the corner.

That’s all I can think of for now. If you’re vegan or vegetarian, what sort of questions/comments do you hear all the time?

Until next time, my loves.