“You’re just going to sit there and eat that steak in front of me?” my daughter asked across the table of the little bistro in Paris.
“Oh yeah,” I said. “I definitely am. And I’m not even going to pretend it’s not delicious. Because it IS delicious. I mean … Béarnaise sauce on a steak? Talk about decadent!”
“You know that poor cow had a life before someone came along and slaughtered her, right?” she said.
“Yes, I do know that,” I replied. “And by the taste, I would say she lived a rather good one.”
My daughter grumbled at me and glared.
It had been one of my few forays into the world of red meat in over a year. I can count on one hand the number of times beef had gone down my gullet. Two burgers, a burrito, a meatball calzone and some unidentifiable substance on a sandwich in New York that may have contained meat by-product.
This move to meat-less was all thanks to my 16-year-old daughter, who has been trying to drive us down the vegetarian road. Red meat, and his good friend, pork, were pretty much left behind. Chicken was still on board, although with much less frequency. Fish like salmon could hitch a ride once in a while, but she was looking to cut that, too. (Shrimp, oddly enough, were too foul a creature to care about, and therefore fair game.)
And the occasional steak, which came with mean looks and a big dallop of guilt.
Her journey down the road to semi-vegetarian had been spawned by a desire to do something for the environment, and save a few critters along the way. It’s a noble, and important cause, and she’s stuck to it. Made a go of it. Managed to even find suck down a few more vegetables (which is impressive, considering before this foray, she had only eaten three in her entire life.)
But as the resident chef in the family (translation: dude who gets stuck in the kitchen), this lifestyle change certainly comes with challenges. I’m aiming to be respectful and encouraging. How often does a kid decide to do something positive for the world, actually stick with it and the end result is you actually feeling better, and healthier? I got a belt loop back! And my arteries don’t feel like there’s a beaver building a damn in there.
Only, now I have to figure out how to expand beyond our staple of three vegetarian meals: pasta with broccoli, pasta with peas and pasta with broccoli AND peas.
I’m trying to branch out. To get more creative. To add more nutritious and protein-rich foods to our diet. Like vegan Béarnaise sauce!
I hunt around for recipes: Mediterranean diet, grain bowls, even vegan. And there are some really delicious and filling meals to be found. It’s surprised me how much I actually like eating this way.
But the more I hunt, the more I also come across some real weirdos. Recipes and combinations that will make you question whether a plant-based diet is ruining peoples’ sanity.
A sweet potato and black bean burger with vegan mayonnaise, rolled oats, curry power, almond milk and fresh dill. The recipe also called for a shot of turpentine to wash it down and get the taste out of your mouth.
Free-range strawberries. Corn grown not only sustainably, but also with compassion and daily doses of classical music and massages. Cruelty-free avocados that are not “painfully” snatched from the branches of trees, but lovingly coaxed to voluntarily fall into pillow-lined baskets where they are made to feel strong and like champions.
There are also some strange products out on the market, too. Meatless vegan beef jerky. A canned vegan Peking duck, which is guaranteed to never have shared a zip code with an actual duck. A canned vegan tuna, scientifically-engineered to give off the authentic smell so your co-workers stay away and never invite you to a meeting after lunch. Even a meat-free haggis. Although I don’t know, nor care to find out, how you can make vegetables taste like sheep organs. Or why in the world a vegetarian would even try.
I will move down this vegetarian road, but I ain’t going there!
I am finding I really like it. Like feeling better, and seeing my weight drop, not rise. Like that we’re doing it as a family, and my daughter has found something to get behind and commit to for a good reason.
But I still reserve the right to eat some chicken, some salmon, and when a steak presents itself drenched in Béarnaise sauce, to forget the beaver dams building up in my arteries, or whether the cow had a fulfilling life. Some things a plant just can’t replace.