Taking the Plunge

To track my adventures and progress in meat-eating, I’m starting a food journal -- tallying the foods I’ve eaten over the past few days (noting that these are indicative of the past several years), and thinking about what’s next.

I posted a note on Twitter imploring my foodie friends to help me reintegrate meats -- white meats first. I don’t even know where to start.

I’ve find myself daydreaming about menu items I’ve long glanced away from, feeling the tug that I *wanted* to eat them, yet my conscience (and, my heart) telling me No.

Should I go for a verde chicken burger at Red Mill? A turkey/cranberry/cream cheese sandwich at Specialty’s? A turkey-bacon breakfast sandwich at Starbucks? BBQ chicken pizza? Fajitas? Something tossed in pasta?

I’m hesitating to take the plunge. Talking about meat -- lifting the shackles off those long-forbidden foods and dreaming up piles of chicken and turkey -- is one thing. Actually purchasing and slipping it in my mouth is another.

Making decisions on what to order in restaurants will likely prove challenging. I’ve long sworn half the reason I’m vegetarian is because it’s so tough for me to choose what to eat. If I had a self-imposed limitation and could only choose from the veggie -- or, now fish -- options, it made things a lot simpler.

Shopping, too, feels daunting. How will it feel to put a package of raw meat into the cart -- and actually take it up to the checkout station and purchase it? The first time I ever bought fish, I walked around Fred Meyer 2 or 3 times, putting everything else in the cart, before I finally mustered enough nerve to go up to the fish counter and order a side of salmon. I flushed as I asked the fishmonger how many ounces I needed -- and how long to cook it.

This is all new territory. Crossing the first threshold is scary.