Saturday, October 28, 2006

Food for thought.

I spent a couple of hours in the kitchen today, making Greek green beans (since I had several shoebox-ripened, starting-to-wrinkle tomatoes to use up) and butternut squash soup. I made it with sauteed onions and garlic and leftover white beans and fresh rosemary off the plant in my window (and I put the remains of the sprig, since I didn't use it all and started from the bottom up, in a cup of water to see if it'll form roots) and it's divine. I'm so incredibly pleased with myself it's disgusting.

Eric, however, just thought the soup was disgusting. That's fine; I already knew he doesn't like squash and I had had no intention and made no overtures in the direction of suggesting he try it. Apparently he felt this was insufficient security, though, and made some comments on the unpalatability of squash in general and this soup in particular. So I got mad at him, because he insists on meat at almost every meal and do I ever say that that's disgusting and I don't want any and don't ask me to try it? I do not. I say nothing, except for the occasional comment on how he feels funny if he doesn't get meat, even if he's had plenty of protein. I did not point this out, but a little later he apologized, and made no comment on the soup when I had it at dinner (he liked the green beans), so we've got peace there, at least for now.

He's also reading a book about religion and atheism (Richard Dawkins, The God Delusion), and it made me wonder about how people approach belief, of that sort and any other, and specifically food. Twice at work I've had people look at my lunch (ratatouille and vegetable pancakes, respectively) and say, "Are you a vegetarian?" and I think it's interesting that they believe only someone who doesn't eat meat would eat that sort of food. Eric's dad seems to take my vegetarianism personally. (It might be because his doctor told him to stay away from red meat because of a potential heart problem.) So does his mom, in a slightly less pushy way--but she still says things like "Jenny, I wish you ate meat, because this steak is so juicy and tender and delicious, it's the best thing in the world," and I wonder why people truly don't get that it would not be delicious to me. I don't try to convert people to vegetarianism, partly because it isn't a religion to me--which, honestly, the meat-centered food culture I live in feels like sometimes--but mostly because I know they have no interest and I can't create that in them. And also because I know they will feel annoyed and persecuted if I try--but nobody seems to think it a problem when they do it to me. I wonder how many people truly try, or are able, to see how another person might approach things.

Obviously this is a pretty petty thing to get all heavy and hung up about, and I'm not really. I just have a good meal in my tummy that I don't want scorned. When I get pregnant and people start pushing me to eat meat for the baby I'll probably do more ranting about it, but that, happily, is at least eight months away (because even if I got pregnant on the honeymoon I wouldn't know for another few weeks) so I think I'll just let my wonderful soup settle and think about catching up on the craft backlog. (There are also curtains I bought that need to be shortened and shelves that need putting up. But more importantly that ingeo I bought several months ago is calling my name. I hear it's difficult to spin; we'll see.)

No comments: