In 2019 I decided I was going to try to eat less meat because I was basically personally responsible for the slaughter of millions of animals each year and I thought I ought to try to reel that in so I can hopefully go to heaven or gay heaven or heaven minus or at least hell plus some day. It was the first time in my life that I actually thought about how much meat I was consuming. Normally I would skim past vegetarian options on restaurant menus, like those weren't even available to me.

I didn't make any drastic changes or anything, but I did try to get myself in the habit of considering non-meat options for meals and get myself out of the habit of eating meat every day. What happened was I started regularly choosing the vegetarian options at restaurants (and finding out, to my great surprise, that a lot of veggie burgers are actually better than the beef option). Sky and I found a few vegetarian recipes that we liked to include in our rotation. We also tried to choose fish instead of chicken or beef (we already don't really eat pig).

In the end, I still ate a lot of meat, but maybe only like 75% of usual. So I was only responsible for the slaughter of 75% of millions of animals. Which at least gets me on some sort of waiting list for possible afterlife not terrible jobs.

Anyway, while I obviously never got anywhere near vegetarianism, by the end of 2019 I felt like I generally understood it. It was one of those things where I thought, "yeah. I could do that, if I was willing to put in the effort." Like paying taxes or reading books.

I'M JUST KIDDING I READ A BOOK LIKE 18 MONTHS AGO.

But while I understand vegetarianism and how one could make that work, veganism has always been an outrageously confusing mystery to me.

Like, how? I just assume everything I see or touch came from an animal. This keyboard? Did they kill a cow for it? My lamp? Platypus?

It honestly seems so unattainable to me that I feel like vegans must be super human.

I get the appeal of veganism. About once a week I find myself thinking too hard about eggs and then suddenly I have an uncontrollable urge to vomit into a trashcan, which probably used to be a sea turtle.

The other day I was thinking about vegans and how difficult that life must be and I thought to myself, "Eli, one day when you have some extra time on your hands, you should learn to cook some vegan meals to see how hard it actually is. Also, you are really beautiful and you absolutely shouldn't feel bad that one guy went to prison for that thing you did. He probably likes it there anyway."

Then it occurred to me: I sort of have some time right now. I'm spending more time cooking meals for ol' dead-weight in the other room as he studies for his board exams than I ever have before. And I'm starting to get a little bored with it.

So yesterday I researched some vegan recipes full of ingredients I've never heard of and now I've started making them and if, by the end of this, I'm not at least considered for People Magazine's Person of the Year, well, then I guess I'm going to be pretty mad at animals. I'm also working on developing a few of my own recipes. If they work out, I'll share them here, since this is basically a smart-ass food blog now.

Anyway, if there are any vegetarians or Presbyterians or vegans or people who were wrongly convicted of crimes out there who have any advice or recipes to share, now is your chance. You don't get this invitation often from anyone, I'm sure, so please jump at it.

P.S. I found a video produced by BYU in 1965 giving some . . . incredible marriage advice and I wrote a snarky recap about it. Please check it out.

Also, please enjoy this picture of my cuddles with Duncan.


~It Just Gets Stranger