Vegetarian in the South

Picture from here.

Living in the south, I was often asked why I am a vegetarian. In my company's southeastern home office, I'm a bit of a tofu-eating oddity. My sweet southern father and I actually got into an argument on Christmas morning several years ago because I would not eat the turkey bacon my mom had so lovingly prepared for me--him arguing all the while that turkey is, in fact, not meat.

My turn to vegetarianism was gradual. It took years and years for me to finally realize that giving up meat was a viable option. I don't talk about it much, because I consider it to be a personal decision. Everyone needs to come to their own conclusions and do what makes sense for them. I'm very lucky to have a supportive husband who eats my vegetarian meals (even when my homemade seitan cutlets turn out like bouncy balls), never pushes me to taste just-a-little-tiny-bit-of-this-bacon-gosh-its-so-good, and never complains that our spaghetti is sans meatballs.

From now on, I will simply refer to this beautiful article when questioned about my dietary choices. Man, I wish I had Jonathan Safran Foer to better-articulate everything that I believe in. His writing makes me want to read extremely slowly, savoring every word.

As for my father, he has developed a sizeable list of Tofurky-related jokes and still offers up a steak on the grill everytime I come home. But, he is really starting to get the knack of marinating and grilling up a mean portabello mushroom.