Vegetarianism. Or, Fun to Pet, Better to Chew

I’m not a vegetarian. I respect vegetarians, and I love many of them, but it’s not my life choice.

I try to get the most local, organic, free-range produce I can afford, but I write a food blog and lost my job; we can’t always splurge. I have lots of vegan/vegetarian/vegetarian-esque friends, and keep to a mostly veg diet (cheap, delicious, fast, can’t get mad cow without the cow) but do eat meat. I hate overcooked meat, which can destroy a beautiful cut of beef or a fillet of fish, and follow Nigella (Goddess and inspiration that she is) that meat cooked well should be ‘nothing a good vet couldn’t put back’. I don’t eat veal because I think it is inhumane and inherintly cruel to animals (although I believe different countries are certifying ‘human veal’? Is that a thing?) and I also never could taste the difference between baby cow and cow. I’m an uncultured cretin, really.

I also joke about vegetarianism –  but I am only trying to make lame jokes. You know who does it better? Jim Gaffigan.

With love, from Charlotte