I have a potentially life-threatening problem: The list of foods I can consume is becoming increasingly limited. No, my doctor has not added restrictions to my diet. It’s simply that I find it more and more difficult to eat anything that was once alive.
For instance, I love a good lobster roll, as long as I don’t consider the source of its succulent filling. But to confront an actual lobster on my plate, mercilessly crack its shell, and then tear it limb from limb … I just can’t do it. It’s barbaric. I lose my appetite completely, especially when I face the fact that the poor creature had just been boiled alive.
The same is true of meats. I’m very fond of lean slices of roast pork arranged attractively on my plate, but I never, ever want to see a pig sizzling on a spit, being ceremoniously carried to the luau pit, or resting on a platter with an apple in its mouth. And please don’t remind me that the tender, juicy steaks I’m so partial to come from Elsie, who had been grazing in a peaceful pasture not too long ago, or that the lamb kabobs were once an adorable, fleecy creature that followed Mary to school one day. As for poultry, please don’t refer to breasts, thighs, or legs. Just ask if I prefer “white” or “dark” and leave it at that. And should I eat an egg laid by a chicken before its demise? Is that better than letting it hatch into an orphaned chick? Such a dilemma.
I never used to have too much of a problem with fish, at least — those tasty broiled, breaded pieces of cod, the crunchy fishcakes, the scrumptious morsels floating in my chowder. I relished them all, until a trip to Paris many years ago where I visited a renowned gourmet restaurant and ordered trout. Big mistake. It arrived at the table intact, head and all — its eyes staring accusingly into mine. I fled the restaurant — and Paris — and never returned.
I don’t understand my friend Harriet. She loves all creatures, great and small. If it has four feet, fur, or feathers, it’s her friend. Don’t tell her I said so, but I think the main reason is that it can’t beat her at Scrabble or otherwise challenge her intellectually. Whatever her rationale for loving all animals, Harriet has no problem whatsoever wearing mink and leather. Nor does she share my squeamishness about eating anything that once mooed, oinked, bleated, clucked, quacked, or lived underwater. I have to learn to emulate Harriet’s attitude before I die of malnutrition.
For a while I thought I could survive on a vegetarian diet. I had been doing okay with that, until recently when I read about a study that claims that plants feel pain. It must have some credibility. There’s even a Vegetable Rights Militant Movement that has a website at vegetablecruelty.com. That’s all I needed. Now what do I do? Do I bake the potato in a blistering oven or fry it in deep fat? Do I steam the broccoli or boil it? Which is more humane. Do I chomp on the carrot sticks and tomatoes raw? Is that like eating them alive? Until I figure it all out, please don’t serve me any fruits or veggies in recognizable form. Slice them, puree them, mash them, cover them with hollandaise sauce, pulverize them into soups diet … Just don’t tell me what they are.
Come to think of it, many nutritionists say that milk is the perfect food. Maybe I can subsist on that. It’s not alive. Cows don’t suffer to produce it. Oh, wait! I just made the mistake of Googling that question; and, unfortunately, apparently I was wrong. I learned that fifty percent of calves born are male; and since they are worthless for milk production, they are slaughtered. As if that’s not bad enough, the mother cows must suffer the trauma of having their babies taken away from them shortly after they give birth in order to maintain their milk production. How sad!
I guess my only hope is to join a religious order which will convince me that it’s okay to eat God’s creations, since the Bible states He placed them all on earth to sustain man. (I’ll try not to think about the fact that He didn’t specifically reference “woman” and that many males believe that woman was also created to sustain man.)
©2012 Rose Madeline Mula for SeniorWomen.com
Check out Rose's new YouTube video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bva6rpfWvxI and her books on Amazon, The Beautiful People and Other Aggravations and If These Are Laugh Lines, I'm Having Way Too Much Fun.
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