It couldn’t last. No chance. I know I’ve written before about the joys of vegetarianism and how alarming and charming I feel not eating meat, but if I am completely honest (New Year’s resolutions and all), I think I was lying. In fact, I’m pretty sure I was lying, but at least I tried hard enough that I even I bought the lie. I really thought I wouldn’t ever really eat meat (properly) ever again…but then I had a meat feast pizza when I was pissed and it all went to shit. The very concept of a MEAST FEAST is possibly the most aggressively repugnant and terrifying thing I could possibly imagine (meat? What kind of meat? It might be a cow, possibly a little piglet, or if you’re lucky it could be a bloody horse. Who knows? Who cares? Not your average meatilicious feaster I bet). It’s also a bloody weird concept; who actually wants to eat three different animals in one mouthful? It’s a bit creepy. AND YET…that feast was so divine. Admittedly, it was no Dominoes (I’m not quite there yet) – it was actually quite embarrassingly chichi, but there was still a lot of unidentified meat knocking around on that baby. And let me tell you – no holds barred since – you shoulda seen me on that Christmas turkey.
It does, however, more than slightly upset me that my willpower was weak enough so as to snap when faced with a bit of cheese-slathered creature (spicy beef? Ham? Screwed if I know). So I have come up with some made-up reasons to justify my U-turn (instead of a recipe, because I haven’t got one).
1) New Year, New me. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwn. Yadda Yadda ‘Hi my name’s Grace and for New Year and I’m taking up going to the gym and giving up smoking and swearing and generally improving my mental and physical well-being’. Oh shut up ya smug little tosser. In 2014, I’m taking up bacon sandwiches and eating that pizza that’s got frankfurters in the crust. Because that can’t not be secretly delicious, admit. And steak tartare when I’m feelin’ posh.
2) It’s actually quite rude. ‘Sorry, I don’t eat sausages. Would you mind just whipping me up a little stuffed pumpkin? Got any tofu?’ YES I WOULD. MAYBE YOU SHOULD JUST EAT THE MEAT FEAST I’VE JUST LOVINGLY PREPARED FOR YOU, YOU NEEDY WHINER. (disclaimer to my dedicated veggie homies – I don’t think you’re rude. I think you’re great, and I will always shove a falafel down ya throat, with the utmost affection).
3) It’s also really annoying and made me quite hungry (sometimes). Because I thought it was quite rude (see above) to make people make something special, sometimes I would end up eating a soggy courgette and some salad, which in my books doesn’t quite constitute supper. Admittedly, this didn’t happen that often as I didn’t have that many qualms about demanding numerous lentil-based dishes from my carni mates. Whoops. Sorry….
Having only come up with three (two) reasons, it has become painfully clear that in fact I just have no willpower in the face of a slice of wafer thin ham. I’m still never going to set foot in a Burger King ever again, and Maccer’s is off-limits unless for a Fillet-O-Fish (I don’t know why people think that’s weird??? Jks. They are so tasty though), but I am a whole new woman, so chuck us a chop.