One month vegetarian: Confessions of a meat eater
"Tanja, write something personal!" Well, I went vegetarian for a month and somehow everyone is interested in food. Why did I do it? The answer is easy. But before meat eaters and vegetarians start tearing each other apart in the comments section: Everyone has to decide for themselves which is better. I'm happy to tell you what I've noticed, what my motivations are and what my goal is.
Bacon for brunch, a burger with a crispy bun and harmonising ingredients or even a pizza with salami are, for me personally, weighty reasons against a vegetarian diet. If it weren't for the know-it-all me, who loves animals more than anything and is almost annoyed by my own schizophrenia. I'm the first to send adorable mini pigs or Highland cattle calf pictures to friends because the typical childish scheme almost triggers motherly feelings in me and elicits a "yay!" at least five octaves higher.
We don't need to talk about the reasons not to eat meat any more than we need to talk about the reasons in favour of meat. We probably all know them and everyone has to do what they want. Trying to lecture others will get us all just as little further as the 35,094th story about Trump's escapades in free newspapers.
How it all began
Just before Christmas, some work colleagues and I went out to eat in Zurich's Kreis 5 neighbourhood. We all ordered a burger. It was undoubtedly good. But with a patty measuring 9 cm in diameter and at least 4 cm high, I simply reached my limits. I didn't even eat half of the meat, even though I left out part of the bun. It's a shame really, because that's where my money is and of course food that others would certainly have needed more than me. I continue with the Christmas roast and fondue chinoise with friends in the beautiful Bernese Oberland. Secretly, I keep asking myself why vegetables play such a small role.
My relationship with greens
I really like vegetables. I live alone and often cook something with courgettes or tomatoes and other vegetables. However, I've had a difficult relationship with lettuce for a long time. I do eat it from time to time, but somehow "just a bowl of salad" is unsatisfying. When I think back to my childhood, I remember mum's delicious vegetables. But somehow meat was the main protagonist here too. I wish there was more colour on my plate, because I like vegetables.
The decision and my personal goal
It wasn't a New Year's resolution, but at some point during New Year's week I decided to give up meat for a month. Why? In my case, individual brain synapses spontaneously come together, sometimes generating frighteningly creative, strange and even sensible ideas. For me, however, this only works with the principle: all or nothing. The main reason was probably that I always eat the same thing. "The same" too often includes meat and vegetables, which sometimes contain more water than fibre. To do another quick flashback to illustrate my insistence on meat: I worked in Marketing for a large butchery for a very short time after my apprenticeship. I know what goes into a sausage and how disgusting sides of beef smell when they are delivered freshly slaughtered for processing. Fortunately, I didn't have to see them every day, but a tour of the plant was actually enough. But why didn't it make a difference to me then? I think it was convenience. Time to broaden my horizons!
My self-declared goal: True to the motto "Even small animals make dung", I won't eat meat for a month so that I can then (hopefully) consume meat less often and more consciously and expand my food repertoire.
The meat-free month
On the first day, my lunch of sliced wheat wasn't really all that great. And as is always the case: if you're not "allowed" to eat something, you want to. I actually very rarely eat kebabs, to be honest, very rarely when I'm tipsy after going out. But why do I crave something like that in the first week in particular? Apart from that, the first week went really well, although I ran out of cooking ideas and the recipes on the internet didn't really look appealing. To make matters worse, I only like pasta to a certain extent (and al dente is unfortunately a foreign word when I cook) and I only eat rice about every other week. But I can manage - at least until the weekend. We're celebrating a birthday at a Chinese restaurant. And I actually only find one vegetarian dish on the menu. A lousy soup with tofu. Tofu? Oh! I don't want to eat soya stew. Time for my only joker day. At the Chinese restaurant, even the menu was organised by type of meat, what am I going to do? I enjoyed the Szechuan with beef - probably even more than usual, which is supposed to be the goal for the end of the month. What the heck, back to the beginning. Monday in week two was exemplary for me. I made sweet potatoes into wedges for the first time and ate them with sour cream and broccoli. At the same time, I steamed more vegetables, baked wholemeal bread and went to bed happy that my next lunch was taken care of. After that, the week went just as well as it had started. Occasional thoughts of dishes with meat were present. And now I've found out why - I don't know any other way, how am I supposed to crave a really great veggie dish when I've been so unconsciously fixated on meat so far?
The days go by and I get used to simply eating things other than meat. And yet every now and then I catch myself in Migros thinking things like: "Antipasti and dried meat would also be an idea!". Then, quicker than I would like, I remember that I don't eat meat. As quickly as the thought came, it's gone again. But I make mistakes at the beginning. When I make a red vegetable curry with cauliflower "rice", I don't realise that the curry paste contains fish oil. What the heck, it was a rookie mistake. Or is that what real veggies eat? Question after question. At the end of the third week, I dared to try soya slices after all, even though I'm not really a fan of "soya replicas" and I have to say: it tasted good. After that, my experiment became less and less spectacular, I got used to it and it suddenly became completely normal. And that's despite the fact that my work colleague's cordon bleu at lunchtime gives me a momentary pang of subtle envy. But I can console myself with the fact that so far every alternative (apart from the wheat-based dish) has tasted good. The end is in sight.
The experiment is over. It wasn't difficult, just unfamiliar. But what now?
What I took away from the experiment
I spent a lot more time in the kitchen. Of course, I could have just eaten bread and cream cheese, made pasta with pesto or a simple tomato sauce. But I didn't want to do that. I cooked, baked or steamed a lot of vegetables. I cooked things that I already ate and liked, but that just hadn't found their way into my kitchen yet. I have saved money. Physically, I feel fitter, despite my occasional chocolate indulgences. At this point, however, I have to say that I have also done more sport than usual during this time, which could of course have had an influence here - as could my month-long abstinence from alcohol. So I don't want to attribute this (or at least not exclusively) to diet. My mental attitude is still the same as it was before the little experiment. I like the taste of meat. However, I try to be much more aware of products that I wouldn't have bought before and always think about what is good for me. I now realise that it really isn't necessary to resort to meat as often as in the past. The alternatives taste just as good - above all, I've discovered new dishes that are excellent without meat. I agree with myself (you probably know the conversations in your head - the weird ones you have with yourself) - on moderate meat consumption of a reasonable once or twice a week. That's manageable and stays within reasonable limits for me.
If your diet is right for you, then it's the right thing to do. But maybe I can also inspire you to venture into other waters. It was worth it for me, I cooked more different types of vegetables than I probably ever have in my life.
Friends, family, cats and good wine are my lifeblood.