Traumatic Event!

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This photograph has long been the running joke in my family about how I came to be a vegetarian!

Truth be told, I can’t remember a time I ever loved to eat meat. Even as a young kid I didn’t like hamburgers or hotdogs, and would only eat white breast meat.

I stopped eating eggs when I was in grade six (11 years old). My friends and I were convinced that the little white chunk you find in the egg yolk was the baby chicken’s umbilical cord. (Have I ever mentioned how naïve I am?). How an umbilical cord could pierce through a hard egg shell I will never know, but I was convinced, and that was enough to turn me off eggs forever.

The following year (in grade 7), I gave up meat completely, and through the years, have had my fair share of food mishaps. I have a very peculiar and strict vegetarian eating style that often leaves me feeling somewhat embarrassed or looking like a complete freak. (I’ll leave that for you to decide).

I think my biggest struggle as of late is attending business luncheons or going out for dinner at “Non Vegetarian” style restaurants. The latest incident to occur was our department Christmas lunch at The Keg Steakhouse. What might you suggest a vegetarian do in this situation? Part of me didn’t want to attend, as I was slightly miffed that a vegetarian eating preference was not taken into consideration when choosing a restaurant, but the other part of me also realized that the majority absolutely would love a scrumptious steak dinner for lunch.

So what is a vegetarian to do you might ask? Why, we order 18 side dishes! I always feel so foolish ordering from this section of the menu. “Umm…yes, I will take a side of asparagus, a side of cauliflower, a side of mash potatoes, a side salad, a side of carrots, and oh yes, I’ll just be hiding under the table when you bring me 18 separate plates food! The absolute worst was at a different business function where the restaurant of choice had not one item on the menu I could stomach (and much to my embarrassment and horror, I learned that a shitake mushroom was NOT pronounced shit-take, but rather shi-tah-kee). I ended up ordering a plate of fruit! How silly that must have looked. I simply claimed my stomach was in knots and I wanted something “light”.

My husband even finds my avoidance of delivery pizza rather peculiar. I will not eat it because the knife used to cut a vegetarian pizza could have been used to cut a meat pizza! That means MEAT JUICE is deposited on my lovely meatless pizza. No can do!

I suppose the fact that I do not eat “veggie burgers” would seem strange to most, but they just look like meat, so they’re a no go as well.

There you have it. You now know of my rather strange food idiosyncrasies.

Tease away!