I wasn't actually aware that it was National Vegetarian Week this week until today. What a waste! From Monday through to Sunday I could have spent the entire time legitimately proselytising to unwilling carnivores how it's much better to be meat-free. Or something like that. But now I've got to squeeze all that in during the rest of today and tomorrow! How unfair.
Not that I'd ever do that, of course, as I'm often fond of saying on here (read that as: moaning on and on about it). But it's not just me, honest! The subject just keeps on cropping up; there's usually always a nice, fresh little anecdote to tell on the subject if I wait long enough (roughly a month or so). And seeing as how this is actually an Official Week for Vegetarians, why waste the opportunity?
I went to a barbecue recently, at which I'd let the hostess know beforehand that I'm a vegetarian (this always makes me feel slightly stupid; it's one of those things I feel I do have to mention with barbecues so people don't feel as though I think their cooking is horrible, but at the same time I don't want them to think they've got to do anything 'special' for me and that that was the reason I'd mentioned it). She was fine with it, and bless her, had prepared some meat-free dishes especially. As I grabbed a plate and helped myself, someone behind me tutted. "Bloody vegetarians! It's a barbecue; you're supposed to eat meat here - honestly, why do these people even bother coming?"
Seeing as I didn't know this person, I didn't know if her comment was directed at me or not. But in response I demonstrated my well-known, devastatingly brutal thing of...just walking away feeling slightly hurt. There it was; yet another example of the surprising level of vitriol directed towards vegetarians by meat eaters. Get the violins out; just make sure the strings haven't been made with catgut, OK?
As I've stated before on this blog (again, many a time!) a lot of people do seem quite fascinated with the reasons for my being vegetarian. Usually they ask the question with a small amount of masochistic fear lurking behind their eyes, because I might start trying to convert them/tell them they shouldn't be eating meat or wearing leather shoes/try to convince them that Quorn substitute bacon doesn't taste like shoe insoles (though I haven't quite convinced myself of that one yet!) When I just shrug and say I don't like the taste of meat, most of them look a bit disappointed.
I'll always remember the first time I discovered that meat was...well, animals made into food. I was about six years old and on going back to infants class after lunch, our teacher asked "Hands up who had the shepherd's pie for lunch!" Innocently I put my hand up. The teacher fixed us all with a smug 'I know something you don't know' sort of smile and said "Now, did you realise you were eating part of a cow?" A few of the others nodded, but I was dumbstruck. Looking back, that scene might have looked great as part of a bad sitcom episode (I'm thinking 'Outnumbered').
Since then, I'd always been very aware that I was eating an animal when I ate a piece of meat, which made me feel uncomfortable and so I finally took the meat-free plunge as soon my Dad would let me, aged thirteen. But I don't cite "animal cruelty" as a reason for my being vegetarian because to say that would imply that I had researched, or had some knowledge of, what really happens in abattoirs and farms and cattle markets and the like. No - meat just makes me feel a bit iffy, so I don't eat it. But why do I feel so embarrassed about saying that to people I don't know?
In the best 'self help' book ever written (though technically it's not really a 'self-help' book at all, just a bloody brilliant book full of common sense business advice), 'Innervation' by Guy Browning, he writes something along the lines of never letting anybody ride roughshod over what's important to you. It's a great sentiment, though I feel I'm a bit lacking at the moment. But if I ever see that barbecue-woman ever again, I'll let her have it. Probably.
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