Opening Letters

Do Meaters Ever Win?

2010 marks one Midwesterner’s hesitant foray into vegetarian territory

Robin Kinderman, illustrated by Holly Zimmerman |

For my New Year’s resolution, I decided to become a vegetarian. You’re probably asking, “Why?” – at least that’s what all of my friends and family members asked, with rather stunned expressions on their faces.

It all started while I was Christmas shopping at Borders. I was headed for the checkout when a book grabbed my attention. Anyone who loves shopping in Borders knows how easily it is to get distracted. All those tables with fancy displays that say stuff like “The New You” and “Exercise Your Brain.” All the delicious titles and colors are so overwhelming. Next thing I know, my phone rings and my significant other is asking where the hell I’ve been for the last three hours. It was during one of these episodes that I was stopped short by a little white book with tall slender letters spelling out “Skinny Bitch.”

Typically, I would surpass a book like this. I’m not skinny, and I’m not a bitch. But I picked it up and read the back. “Stop being a moron and start getting skinny!” Hmm. Interesting. The book was a no-crap, sassy attitude approach to eating healthy. I liked it. I was sucked in. But I already had an armful of presents, so I justified it by telling myself I would read it before Christmas and then give it to my best friend. Good.

So I read the book, and after sucking me in with girly humor, it dove into why being vegetarian is better, and then deeper into why going vegan is the only way. I was convinced. I was going to give up meat, milk, soda, coffee, and limit my intake of all other dairy and animal products. 

It was actually a lot of fun starting out. I liked the challenge.  I spent the first few days eating oranges and oatmeal for breakfast, couscous and salad for lunch, and potatoes and rice dishes for dinner. I snacked on almonds and chips and salsa. Eliminating meat was not the hard part. The hard part was all the flack I got from my fiancé. My fiancé is a very rational thinker, and he questioned my motives for my lifestyle change. For every action, there must be a justifiable reason. Me? I just do what I want and it rarely makes sense and I don’t worry if there’s a good reason or not. But this became a problem, since the person I love and live with didn’t want to be vegetarian. 


    Everything was going smooth until Day 8. Yes, you read that right. Day 8. I made tacos with red beans and rice instead of meat. I thought they were delicious, my fiancé did not. This wasn’t going to fly. So as any good couple attempts to do, we came up with a compromise. He agreed to bring more greens and vegetables into his diet, and I would go back to eating meat. BUT it absolutely, in no way, shape, or form, could be corporately farmed meat. It has to come from somebody’s farm where it was raised in a warm barn and grazed in the pasture freely, and was killed in a humane matter. Now I’m sure some of you will tell me there is no such thing as humane slaughter. Some of you might think that my fiancé should whole-heartedly support my motives and intentions and there shouldn’t have to be any compromise. Well, you know what? I’m flighty.

I’m flighty, and impulsive, and sometimes I do things because they’re hip and cool and sometimes I do things for no reason whatsoever. Either way, our relationship is more important than vegetarianism.

As I write this, it’s Day 15. I’ve discovered that it’s quite difficult and expensive to be a vegetarian in winter in Wisconsin. But it’s also fun.

I’ve been keeping a journal, and I actually enjoy writing down what I eat every day. I’ve also wanted to cook and experiment more since I went vegetarian. When I started, I had no idea what I was doing. I stocked up on Lipton rice and noodle side dishes. We’ve since progressed to make homemade salsa, omelets, teriyaki salmon, and salads.

The biggest thing I’ve learned thus far is not to get mad at yourself and feel defeated. It’s all about effort and experimentation. Sometimes things are out of your control, and you learn as you go. Sometimes you’re busy, have to dog sit early in the morning, then go to work, and will eat a sausage croissant. Sometimes you don’t have much in the cupboards and make a tuna sandwich. Sometimes your best friend will invite you over for dinner and absentmindedly put bacon in the stuffed mushrooms. Meat happens.

I don’t see these as failures. I see it as a learning process. And even though I may still not make any sense or have any clear motives, seem impulsive and wishy-washy, I’m having fun playing with my food.