A ‘Flexitarian’s’ dilemma…

Say you don’t believe in absolutes. No black and white for you, only tones of gray.

You won’t call yourself a vegetarian, even though you don’t have much of a taste for meat, because you don’t want to be rigid when somebody wants to buy you the smallest, juiciest little medallion of filet mignon you’ve ever seen. You’d be a fool, for example, to find yourself in San Francisco at Zuni Cafe and  turn your nose up at its famous roast chicken. You reserve the right to steal a piece of bacon from one or both kids on Sunday, because, well, it’s Sunday, and you’re at the diner, and you’re paying. So technically, that bacon is yours anyway, even though you’re not supposed to eat bacon.

And finally,  you know perfectly well that sometimes nothing in the world will fix what ails you like an In n’ Out Burger, animal style.

So you’ve been referring to yourself, if asked at all, as a “flexitarian.” You’re happy with rice and beans and lentils and salads except for those rare times you’re invited to a carne asada. What are you gonna say? No?

But then what happens when you meet a guy, right out of the blue,  who seems to fit all the major and minor criteria for what You Want Right Now, in an almost comically perfect way, except for one baffling exception:

He’s an avowed carnivore.

As in, “If it isn’t meat, it isn’t food.”

On our first date he told me this fact, and also that, when left to his own devices, he ate like a six-year-old.

“So, like, fish sticks and Chicken McNuggets?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“And Pop Tarts? You must like Pop Tarts…”

“Ewwww. Pop Tarts have fruit in them.”

“Pop Tarts have processed jam-like stuff in them.”

“I’ll eat jam. But I hate fruit.”

Surely he was kidding. I listed an array of summer fruit, the likes of which make most people roll their eyes back into their heads with pleasant memories of childhood summers. Peaches? Plums? Nectarines? Watermelon?

He shuddered. “I hate fruit. I hate vegetables. I don’t eat ‘grow food.'”

Grow food? “I will find one vegetable you like.”

“Many have tried,” he smiled, shaking his head. “It’s not gonna happen.”

Huh.

I like to cook for the people in my life (especially those brave enough to let me). And this turn of events presents a distinct problem, since I don’t care for meat and I don’t know how to cook it in any case. I have only a handful of dishes that include meat, and after that, my repertoire is exhausted. I am already dangerously down my list.

He loved the Paella. Devoured the leftovers the next day for lunch. (“And I don’t even eat leftovers!”) A good sign. I’m sure he’ll like the shepard’s pie, too. And surely the Dehli-style lamb stew. I haven’t made that in years, and it’s a proven crowd-pleaser.

But then what? It could get awfully expensive eating sushi every week.

Then I stumbled onto this: Fried Red Thai Jasmine Rice with Shrimp. And I was inspired. Only I’m gonna cut up the veggies real small like, as if I was trying to sneak them past a child, say, a six-year-old.

Carefully gathered intelligence also shows he likes rice, potatoes, fish and cilantro, which, last I checked, was grow food. But like I’m gonna mention that and shoot myself in the foot. Also, he loved the lentil soup (but then who doesn’t?)

Did I say problem? Let’s call it a challenge.

Stay tuned…

Photo: a tip o’ the hat to the site Hats of Meat (“You would look neat, in a hat made of meat!”)

Tagged as: carnivores, fried red thai Jasmine rice with shrimp, lentil soup, vegetarianism