I was a vegetarian from the age of 15 until some time a year or so ago, which means I was vegetarian for longer than I ate meat. And if you’re wondering, then yes, it was the bacon that turned me. It’s always the bacon, isn’t it? I’m such a cliché.
But before you judge me for contravening my own principles, please rest assured, I have none. I’m not THAT sort of vegetarian. My reasons were baser than that; in fact, it was my mother who decided she no longer wanted to eat, or indeed cook, meat, thus rendering the rest of us non-carnivorous by default. Of course, being a rebellious teenager, I resisted the trend for several months before succumbing, but typically contrarily was the last by far to buck it.
Considering my lack of principles, I could be quite evangelical about my vegetarianism at times, going so far as to refuse to eat anything cooked with meat fat or stock and even being squeamish about food that had been cooked NEXT to meat. Why no one told me to get over myself, I really can’t imagine.
So yes, it started with the bacon, but it didn’t stop there. Oh no. I swiftly moved on to crackling, pork pies, paté and crispy duck. I’m also partial to proper cooked ham (not that plastic packet stuff, yuk) and cured ham. I’ve even tried beef and lamb, although I can’t say I’m sold on either. I’ve come to realise I like predominately pork products and prefer cold meats to hot (with the exception of bacon, DUH).
As far as Nick is concerned, he’s finally managed to turn me (um, that sounds wrong). But I keep telling him, I’m still vegetarian, I just happen to eat meat too. Now all I have to do is find a word for that.