Being a vegetarian...Well almost (witty writing)

Meat. It’s something that almost everyone loves right? I mean how could you not? The mouth-watering smell of a big juicy steak, sizzling away in the pan- that’s heaven to many people. Numerous people always ask the same question... How can you not like meat?!

In my own world I would say that I was a vegetarian but like most relationships I know that I am not yet 100% committed. There are very few meats that are lucky enough to be accepted into my mouth these include: Chicken, sausages and the odd rasher of bacon (come on! How can anyone not like a good old bacon sandwich smothered in ketchup? Mm just writing me this makes my stomach grumble and my mouth water).

I don’t know what it is that I don’t like about meat, maybe it’s the smell or maybe because I know that a few months back the animal would have been merrily dancing around in the (not so) safety of its field but nonetheless everyone in my family worships meat like it is some sort of god that they can’t live without. Which normally results in me being the ‘difficult one’ although I don’t see what is so hard about just leaving my portion of meat off the plate, I don’t need a substitute. It’s especially hard when we are invited to a barbeque with the rest of our family as my mum frantically raids asda for something I can eat whilst the rest of them feast on the poor chargrilled bodies of innocent animals. The worst possible experience for me is when watching my sister feast upon a steak or gammon I can’t help but watch her with a disgusted look on my face -the way she rapidly gobbles up the meat like someone is going to run up and take it off of her, it actually makes me sick in my mouth (which probably tastes more appetising than the meat itself).

Food shopping is difficult for my mother, so against my will I normally get dragged along for what is normally at least a traumatic two hour trip. Generally my mum tells me what meals for the week she is planning to do, then she tells me to go and find something instead of meat. There I stand in the freezer section, staring into the veggie section of the freezer there are so many delicious sounding foods: broccoli and cauliflower tarts, falafels and of course quorn – they are all so tasty! Unfortunately, when I am not food shopping with my mum she forgets that I dislike meat so you can imagine my horror when I arrive home for dinner and find a piece of meat on my plate!

This summer I went to France for just over a month, I was staying with my Nan and granddad- both meat lovers too. As it is France we were invited to many barbeques, I love the atmosphere but I especially dread the food part. I felt especially bad when I found out all the trouble they went to, to find nice meat for us. They had so much… there was beef, lamb, pork but to my dismay no chicken!!! So I was left so sit there with two lettuce leaves and four tomatoes on my plate. They couldn’t understand,(despite all of my attempts to explain) why I wouldn’t eat the meat, my nan tried to bribe me to eat some of the food but I know that it wouldn’t go down well, so instead she whispered in my ear to eat the silly salad attempt and that I could have some proper food when we went back home. Little did I know that it would be six hours away, the French love good company along with good wine.

At times I do feel as though I should eat meat, but I know from experience that it never goes well. Due to the demands of my sister my dad took us out for a meal where my sister(as always) ordered a burger with cheese and bacon it looked glorious so I thought I would be brave and I made the decision to order one myself- I suppose you could say I was peer pressured my dad and sisters. Eventually the beastly burger was placed in front of me, it smelt nice enough to I took a bite and swallowed. I could feel the cow helplessly mooing along with the squeals of the pig as it made its way into my stomach once they landed into the deep pit I felt a strange feeling in my stomach and before you know it I was sick. Yep. Sick in the restaurant on my plate. Absolutely delicious. Once I was sick I instantly felt better unlike my dad who then reluctantly and carefully took my plate of spewed up farmyard animals back to the restaurant kitchen. I don’t think my dad or me have ever felt so embarrassed in our lives.

So it’s safe to say that I am a vegetarian... well almost.