Meat-free Month: Week 1

The decision to give up meat for a month isn't hard to make. Actually sticking to the pledge and keeping away from poultry, meat and fish isn't that tricky either: most of the time, I'd much rather munch on veggies and fruit anyway.

What makes the challenge difficult is knowing that you simply can't, say, whip up a sausage sandwich should you happen to fancy one at some point. It reminds me of quitting smoking (although obviously I've not given up an illness-spewing, addictive poison this time around...unless we're talking about the more intensively processed end of the meat industry). Back when I was quitting, I was quite happy not to smoke, but the awareness that this newfound state of smoke-free being was for keeps made me crave a cigarette like never before. It's a bit like a child whipping up a tantrum when they can't have their own way: you always want what you know you can't have the most.

The small everyday trials don't help. On my first lunchtime sandwich run since the start of the meatless month, I ended up standing next to a huge slab of roast pork (and all the trimmings) moments after finding out the cafe had ran out of ingredients for anything even borderline appetising from the limited veggie menu. I could swear the piece of meat was winking at me temptingly while I waited for my dull egg mayo sandwich, assembled simultaneously to a colleague's mouth-watering high quality ham salad. The local shops seemed suddenly keen to offer all of my favourite meat and fish things at ridiculously low prices when I popped in for the oh-so-green ingredients for yet another stir fry. I started to fear being offered a meaty meal when visiting a friend's house, staging an internal debate about whether it was worse to turn down hospitality (how rude!) or take a momentary break from the veggie drive (so spineless!).  Gradually I began to understand why dogs risk breaking their necks to sniff in every particle of a passing meaty fragrance: the smell of meat cooking is hypnotic in a way that, say, the mild odours emerging from a freshly chopped carrot can never hope to be.

Some things have helped keep us on the straight and narrow. We've wasted hours glued to such Food Network classics as 'Diners, Drive-INS and Dives' and 'Heat Seekers', both of which specialise in vegetable-dodging culinary nightmares served in ludicrously generous XXL, fat-dripping portions. An eyeful of, say, a greasy chilli burger the size of a small child served with a lorry-load of fries makes that boring salad look pretty appealing. Yesterday I was breathing in the plain meaty smells of the stew my mother-in-law was whipping up for a spice-and flavour-averse elderly relative. It was a bona fide meat feast, and I was VERY happy to keep well away from the gray and brown mess simmering in the pot. 

Most importantly, we've been able to eat well all week despite - or is that because of? - sticking to vegetables. Mexican bean burgers with homemade salsa and a spinach curry that substitutes the off-limits chicken with, well, more spinach made sticking to veggies seem like a treat as opposed to a chore, but the real star of the week has been asparagus. As long as there are such fine greens around, who needs meat?