Long Vegetarian Story Short
During High School, I was eating a hamburger at Silver Spurs on Bway and 9th Street, a junior burger to be precise, when I put it down and said aloud, “I don’t want this anymore.”
My dining companion said, “I’ll finish it for you.”
I said “No, I don’t want to eat burgers anymore. Ever.” And that was it.
Slowly, over about two years, I eliminated all meat from my diet whilst making sure to maintain a healthy, balanced diet according to what I had read in the best books I could find about nutrition and vegetarianism and checking with my Mensch of a Doctor, Dr. Marc Spero. I am such a nerd that way.
17 years later I was still not eating ANY meat, and no cheating, not even once.
Until last September when my body said “Eat Chicken.”
I’m a big believer in listening to the body and so if it wanted chicken that meant it was time to eat chicken. So, Labor Day Weekend 2005, at our country house in Amagansett, Long Island, under the warm sun beaming thru the skylight in the kitchen, I took a bite of a roasted chicken we had just bought at the A&P. My favorite bite: the oyster [a part under the shoulder bone]. And it was good.
I waited about two days to see if I had any reaction and the only one I had was my body saying “Eat More.”
And thus a newly minted carnivore was re-born.
My dining companion said, “I’ll finish it for you.”
I said “No, I don’t want to eat burgers anymore. Ever.” And that was it.
Slowly, over about two years, I eliminated all meat from my diet whilst making sure to maintain a healthy, balanced diet according to what I had read in the best books I could find about nutrition and vegetarianism and checking with my Mensch of a Doctor, Dr. Marc Spero. I am such a nerd that way.
17 years later I was still not eating ANY meat, and no cheating, not even once.
Until last September when my body said “Eat Chicken.”
I’m a big believer in listening to the body and so if it wanted chicken that meant it was time to eat chicken. So, Labor Day Weekend 2005, at our country house in Amagansett, Long Island, under the warm sun beaming thru the skylight in the kitchen, I took a bite of a roasted chicken we had just bought at the A&P. My favorite bite: the oyster [a part under the shoulder bone]. And it was good.
I waited about two days to see if I had any reaction and the only one I had was my body saying “Eat More.”
And thus a newly minted carnivore was re-born.
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