Tofurky Time!

I’ve been a vegetarian for more than 23 years. (Typing that number just now I almost had a coronary, realizing how old that makes me!) Ever since junior high, when I just couldn’t take my mother’s cooking anymore. I think it was the ham rollups stuffed with ricotta and raisins that put me over the edge.

Don’t get me wrong, my mom is a good cook, if perhaps a little overly creative at times. I certainly appreciate her efforts a lot more now that I have to feed my own (picky) family, night after night.

So obviously, I was not raised vegetarian. I ate my share of Happy Meals and hot dogs. But somewhere along the line, meat began to gross me out. The thought, the texture. It may have also had something to do with reading Upton Sinclair’s “The Jungle,” in English class. (Tip for happy carnivores: DON'T. You’ll never look at a burger the same way again.)

It started out as kind of an experiment. How long could I go without eating meat? Would I miss it? Would my iron levels plummet, making me weak and anemic and stunting my growth? (My mother’s fear.) The answers: a long, long time; no; and no.

I developed a snappy retort for all those people who asked, incredulously, “But if you don’t eat meat, what DO you eat?” Answer: “Everything else.” To be specific, I eat pasta, eggs, beans, nuts, peanut butter, and a range of soy products from the excellent Morningstar Farms brand. I am not a strict vegetarian, because I have been known to eat soup made from chicken broth, and I do eat seafood from time to time.

My husband is not a vegetarian, nor are my kids -- except sort of, by default, since I do most of the cooking. C. sometimes complains that we eat too many carbs, and blames any extra pounds on our meat-free meals. I tell him, “Cook yourself a steak, then.” I can abide meat in my house, even in my pots and pans, but don’t expect me to cook it. That's like asking a deaf man to compose a symphony. Oh, wait, Beethoven...

Anyway, Miles enjoys the occasional turkey sandwich, hot dog, or nuggets at Chick-fil-A, but he just as happily munches soy-based “Chik’n nuggets” and black bean tacos. Riley has yet to have his first taste of meat. (I don’t know about you, but I find the pureed, jarred baby-food meat nas-TY!)

It’s much more common to be a vegetarian these days, so I’m not as much of an oddball as I once was. Except on Thanksgiving. No one can believe that even on this great American holiday, I don’t let one bite of the bird pass my lips. Not that a hunk of steaming flesh sawed off a crispy bird carcass isn’t appealing and all. ;) But there’s so much other food at Thanksgiving – vegetables, even! – that I don’t miss it a bit.

In case you’re wondering, yes, I have tried the whimsically named “Tofurky.” Once, with some friends. We pretty much all agreed it looked, smelled, and tasted disgusting. And the texture... Yeeuuuccchhhh!

So I’ll just stick to the green beans, squash, and stuffing, thanks. That leaves more bird carcass for the rest of you!

READS O’ THE WEEK: One of my former students wrote this column about what happened when her teen daughter gave up meat. And here's an essay about the challenges of putting a strict vegetarian through preschool.