There's no image that seems appropriate for this post. A rabbit is as good as anything.
I called a dietitian today - the next person on my list of interviewees for my meat book, Chapter Health (sample chapter the publisher is waiting for so patiently). I've truly exhausted the helpful and well-informed naturopath I've been visiting. I hadn't seen a naturopath before - evidently there's a hundred-question limit per appointment. Who knew? She has, I think, answered most of my questions regarding iron, protein, zinc, combining, absorbing, good recipes, local restaurants, reputable vitamin suppliers. Most. Time to let her recover...
When I called the dietitian, she asked about my bowels. Third, maybe fourth question. Granted, hers is a profession where almost any question can seem legitimate if asked with suitable authority. Do you eat wheat? Do you like your mother? Do you spend much time lying on the ground staring at clouds? All possibly relevant to your physical health I imagine. However, she opened with bowels. I answered of course, and am now curious what else is in her bag of queries. Hoping to stay firmly on the topic of meat.
I think I ought to meet a Chinese medical practitioner next since those I'm spoken with over the years have always responded to my then-vague and meandering queries about health with horror that I don't eat pork (that there's the problem). Ginger in summer and cold foods in winter also made star appearances as Problems.
....................
For lunch today, I went to a vegetarian cafe near my occasional workplace. I had a thick wrap made from some type of flat bread rolled tightly around generous chunks of tofu and tempeh that had been fried in tamari, juicy tomato, crunchy bean sprouts, lettuce and cucumber, spring onion and a spicy satay sauce. Hippie delicious. As soon as I finished, I wanted another.
The man who served me (sigh, a stereotype of skinny ponytail hanging limply from near-bald pate, wire-rimmed glasses, faded purple t-shirt with a slogan long past legible, floppy sandals) put the plate on the table and said that it probably wasn't my normal thing but that he hoped I'd enjoy it.
I was too hungry to waste time being affronted but seriously, I've been chowing down on tofu for several decades. Does what you wear really indicate what you eat? For him, sure. But I haven't touched meat since I was seventeen and back then my role models were black-clad, pasty, angry English musicians. Now I spend a lot less time in second-hand stores, but even on a non-workday I'm not going to wear hemp or very crappy t-shirts but I suspect I know about tofu than the chef. Well, were there much to know...
Anyway, here's a menu that might inspire should you find yourself unsure of what to have for a veggie meal. Black tie optional.
