Caitlin: A Vegetarian Journey in Ranch Country
"I don't know that I want my BBQ sauce used on vegan crap!" My father called from the living room. I looked down to the stove where a pan of tofu was already cooking in the sweet, smokey, sauce-y goodness. Well shit, I thought. Too late for that. Besides, I told myself, the BBQ sauce is the only thing giving this stuff any taste. I'm not fully on the tofu train yet.
You see this was my first trip home since I became a vegetarian. I won't go into my reasons for it, mostly because I don't want to have any more arguments about it. I've had my fill of those in the last few weeks. I'll just say that yeah I am sure. And no, I don't have any issues with people who do eat meat.
I knew when I made the decision to give up eating the furry/feathery kind that I was gonna catch Hell from my family. My oldest sister said several times of her frog-eye salad* "It's not vegetarian frog eyes". My step father offered me jerky "But it's elk jerky, so...". All in all, by my family's standards, they were positively brimming with support.
And then I got to my Dad's house. My father is a devout carnivore. He enters BBQ competitions every summer and has won several of them. He made ribs this Christmas that caused Christy to look over the table to our sister Caroline and proclaim "I would fight you for the rest of those." So I'm sure it felt a little personal when I gave up meat. To his credit he managed to declare several times "I don't have any problem with this." He's said this in several different stages of my life. When I was 16 and joined a punk band. When I was 18 and got my first tattoo. When I was 22 and had neon green hair. The key to telling how sincere he is, lies in the next sentence that comes out of his mouth. In this case "You can be a vegan republican.** That's your business."
But despite my mother's deep fears, I didn't go hungry a single time on my trip home. I managed to stick with the no meat diet for a week in rural Colorado/Wyoming towns. I also managed to eat my weight in cookies and fudge, but that's what the holidays are for, right? And don't tell him, but I left the rest of the tofu in Dad's fridge. Let's see how long it takes him to notice...
Little C
*For those who have never had it, frog-eye salad is tapioca and whipped cream and usually fruit of some kind. I suspect it is called frog-eye salad to detract children from eating nothing else at picnics because calling it "Super yummy heaven splooge" wasn't keeping them away
**My father's go to insult for people he doesn't understand is "republican". His insult for people he does understand but thinks are stupid is "buckwheat". His insult for people who really piss him off is "Gravy-sucking pig"
I knew when I made the decision to give up eating the furry/feathery kind that I was gonna catch Hell from my family. My oldest sister said several times of her frog-eye salad* "It's not vegetarian frog eyes". My step father offered me jerky "But it's elk jerky, so...". All in all, by my family's standards, they were positively brimming with support.
And then I got to my Dad's house. My father is a devout carnivore. He enters BBQ competitions every summer and has won several of them. He made ribs this Christmas that caused Christy to look over the table to our sister Caroline and proclaim "I would fight you for the rest of those." So I'm sure it felt a little personal when I gave up meat. To his credit he managed to declare several times "I don't have any problem with this." He's said this in several different stages of my life. When I was 16 and joined a punk band. When I was 18 and got my first tattoo. When I was 22 and had neon green hair. The key to telling how sincere he is, lies in the next sentence that comes out of his mouth. In this case "You can be a vegan republican.** That's your business."
But despite my mother's deep fears, I didn't go hungry a single time on my trip home. I managed to stick with the no meat diet for a week in rural Colorado/Wyoming towns. I also managed to eat my weight in cookies and fudge, but that's what the holidays are for, right? And don't tell him, but I left the rest of the tofu in Dad's fridge. Let's see how long it takes him to notice...
Little C
*For those who have never had it, frog-eye salad is tapioca and whipped cream and usually fruit of some kind. I suspect it is called frog-eye salad to detract children from eating nothing else at picnics because calling it "Super yummy heaven splooge" wasn't keeping them away
**My father's go to insult for people he doesn't understand is "republican". His insult for people he does understand but thinks are stupid is "buckwheat". His insult for people who really piss him off is "Gravy-sucking pig"
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