Monday, September 18, 2006

Collapsing like a flan in a cupboard

As a rule, I don't eat beef...haven't done so, in fact, for about...hmmm...fifteen to seventeen years. It doesn't go quietly into the night, if you know what I mean. I stopped eating it, not out of an ecologically minded protest against the huge cost in human suffering and environmental damage (which would be plenty good reason, wouldn't you say?) ...but because every time we had a barbeque and I ate tri-tip, I suffered a horrendous stomachache for hours afterwards. Stomaches bad, ergo, no beef for Maya, right? I've done a lot of explaining over the years, it goes along these lines, "No I'm not vegetarian, yes, I love fish, (with the exception of salmon and trout, the hing of the aquatic world) no, not big on pork, but chicken/turkey/quail? Yes please!"

In real life, I'm surrounded by carnivores, with the exception of my mom. She was vegetarian for about seven years, through her pregnancy with me and the next four years or so. Apparently this healthy habit came to an abrupt halt while she was pregnant with Pony and started craving steaks and hamburgers. Naturally enough, I turned out to be the kid who begged for spinach quiche and Pony is a girl who just can't say no to a nice, thick steak.

In the last few years, I've been slowly crumbling under the bad influence of this one and his nefarious consumption habits. I don't prepare beef-based products (or dinner, for that matter, most my eternal shame) for him, since I subscribe to the "if I'm going to go to all that trouble, I'd better get a meal out of it" kitchen philosophy) for him, so the poor man has two options if he'd like to eat dead cow, I mean, beef:
a) go out (yes please!)
b) grill it yerowndarnself, mister. Outside on the barbeque, February be darned.

A few years back we were in Costa Rica together and I was persuaded to take a tentative bite or four of a delicious, tender steak. Mmmm...steeeeak. Thus began my long, slow, collapse (relapse?) into carnivore territory. To wit:

-I dreamed about making Scott get beef stroganoff at the Brew House. This was all so that I could eat all of his mushrooms (he doesn't like them, strange man) some of the noodles, and one bit of filet. Two days later, I caved to the callings of my unconscious and we went.

-Samplings of beef and accompanying sauce at Opal under the guise of "balancing out that bite I took of your potatoes".

-Flirtations with proscuitto-wrapped grilled asparagus, melon and carpaccio for wedding-related items. Its work, people, work!

All of that aside, I didn't really consider jumping back into the ring, so to speak, until just now. It may be the Ricotta. Oddly enough, I'd never tasted Pizza Hut until last week. Do you hear that sound? It is all my many years of steely resolve just evaporating. Steely resolve being inhaled into the vacuum of my Good Intentions, like so much herb-y, delicious, lightly coated in cheese, chunks of sausage-y pleasure pizza. Either that or the rumblings of protest from my stomach over being subjected to such torment on a Sunday.


Chiada said...

Well, if you are trying to reverse your cravings, just go watch Super Size me. That'll turn you off fast food joints for months; it worked for me. Even now, I am totally banning McDonalds, Wendys, Burger King, Carls Junior, and usually Jack in the Box. I pretty much only eat hamburgers from places where I know what they're cooking: Orcutt Burger, Charlies, and In 'n Out. Aside from that, we're not big beef eaters either. We have tri tip with my folks probly twice a month. The rest of the month is chicken, pasta, fish, cheese & crakcers, popcorn, nothing, rice & sausage for dinner.

So I was wondering if we can make plans to spend New Years Weekend with you regardless of the weather. If it's great, then we go on Death March. If it sucks, then we have fun at your place. Sound like a plan? :D I love inviting myself over. Hee!

Meepers said...

Oh honey, I have seen the SuperSize Me and I don't crave fast food at all. I'm not craving junky beef in general, its the d**n ricotta and herbs on that pizza dough that are just killing me.

Actually, you could have some competition for NY's weekend - I think Peter and Angela will be down - but I'll keep you posted. We could always farm you over somewhere you won't want to die of cat-allergies, if so, right? Cause I think it'd be fun fun fun if you were ALL down. bad Ermlin doesn't keep a spare bedroom. (Joke) Who else? Let me think on this one - someone close and fun, pref. someone who'll be on la March with us..... Jeremy and Christies is small and you don't know them well....Carlos and Sara have 2 cats now and are remodeling....Mike and Janelle are still across the street, but you'd be in the living room...crap, why can't I think of anyone Close AND suitable?

Why aren't I rich? I'd block off a few rooms at the Encina/Best Western.

desiree said...

Gt yourself a tub of ricotta and eat it with a spoon. Granted, not healthy, but very happy making. You may not want to listen to me though, I had to resort to threats to keep myself from buying frozen motzarella sticks (if you touch those I will make you work this weekend!) and so forth. I also don't get much red meat, it just isn't practical to buy a roast and cook it for myself.

The death march sounds fantastic. Wish I could join. Maybe it would get rid of all those tubs of ricotta I have consumed...