National Vegetarian Week – 18 May 2016

It always seems to be some celebratory week or other and this week is the time for vegetarians. Yes, it’s National Vegetarian Week. Quite how these things are designated is anyone’s guess but everywhere you turn on social media there are vegetarian recipes. Which is good, of course, as we should all be eating as much veg as possible.

Two things have happened this week which rather sum up the life of the vegetable-loving carnivore. In fact these two events happened on the same day at the same time. I was invited to a press launch of a couple of vegetarian cookbooks and I gladly went along because I can never have enough cookbooks and it is fun to meet the cookbook authors – or should one call them chefs? This always arouses two conflicting emotions – firstly awe and secondly envy. I am in awe of anyone who is talented enough to be able to get an agent to look at their idea for a cookbook and then has the energy and determination to see the process through. I am envious that the person just described is not me. One lives in hope. Mostly, book launches of cookbooks make me hungry – no there were not nearly enough canapes – and I enjoy being excited about the recipe ideas in any new book. Just think about how many wonderful meals one could cook if starting on page one and cooking all the way through to the end. Instead, I rather suspect that most of us end up trying one or two dishes and then getting back to the few dishes we repeatedly cook each week.

While I was out and about sipping orange juice and meeting the most dynamic vegetarians I have ever encountered – a set of twins known as The Happy Pear – a parcel arrived at my front door which would have scared the vegetarian horses. It was a box full of meat! Steaks to be precise. Gammon, pork, sirloin, ribeye and flatiron. Not being much of a meat eater and never having cooked any of these cuts of meat – I usually cook lamb – I hastily put it all in the freezer, waiting for good weekend weather to do justice on the BBQ to some of these fabulous looking pieces of meat. My son informed me that he no longer eats beef, having watched a movie about the cattle industry’s contribution to the destruction of the planet. All the more for the rest of us.

I reflected on the enthusiasm with which I had embraced vegetarianism but an hour before returning home to find the meaty gift from a company called Market Porter. Suddenly I was planning a blowout feast for carnivores as soon as the sun came out. Funnily enough it has been raining all week since then. Is the universe telling me it is time to embrace my inner vegetarian? Perhaps, but first I must have my steak and eat it.

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