It has been a while since I’ve blogged. . . I wasn’t even sure that I would still know how to log in! But I am so pleased to see that there is still a steady stream of people visiting my site, so maybe it’s time to take up my pen again.
But what has really brought me here today (Other than that I have finished a first draft of my new book and so am “allowed” to write other things) is something that has been a quiet but big part of my life this year – I’ve stopped eating meat.
And some of you have been kind enough to be curious about this, and ask me why, so I want to tell you. But I don’t want to tell you the stuff you should already know – the stuff about how completely, mind-boggling inhumane the meat industry is. About how bad it is for the environment. If you don’t know this already, I am sure that it is easy enough to educate yourself.
The question is, how did I go from being a person who was deeply uncomfortable with what I know about meat production and the lives of animals in that system, to a person who doesn’t eat meat. It took a long time – because I like meat; because cooking vegetarian food is more work – especially when you are still cooking meat for a family; and because I really like food in all its forms.
But then three kind of random things happened towards the end of last year:
- We got a puppy
Now I have had puppies before.
But this chap, well, he’s particularly bovine looking.
And I really, really love him. And I would NEVER eat him – like not even if he was the last food source on earth (although I MIGHT feed him to my kids in that situation). But then I have to ask myself – if I won’t eat my cow-like dog, why will I eat a cow?
2. Pigs
In the course of my day job last year, I had to read about how pigs are treated in the commercial farming world.
And it really, really isn’t nice. 
Pigs are apparently as clever as three year olds (I think, in pig terms, they are probably cleverer – I mean I think they are better at being PIGS than a three year old would be).
But I wouldn’t eat a three year old. Hell, I wouldn’t even feed one to my starving children. So why am I part of the inhumane treatment of pigs?
3. The Clifton Sheep
Do you remember the outrage last year? The sheep sacrificed on Clifton beach? You can read about it here: https://www.timeslive.co.za/news/south-africa/2018-12-31-timeline-rites-racism-and-rights-clash-on-cliftons-pristine-sands/
People were freaking out. Well, white middle class people were freaking out. OUTRAGED by the sheep abuse.
And the thing for me was that I kept thinking that that sheep was quite LUCKY. It probably had quite a nice free-range life in someone’s yard, before going down to a nice beach and being quickly slaughtered. Trust me – that is better than what is happening to the meat you buy from your local butcher or supermarket.
I wouldn’t sacrifice a sheep in my garden though – so why am I eating far less humanely slaughtered animals?
So these ideas bounced around in my head – a head that was already uncomfortable with eating meat. And suddenly – and it was really sudden – on boxing day last year, I realised, I had hit a wall. That was it. I’m not going to eat meat anymore.
My plan was to be a bit flexible. I am calling myself a flexitarian. The plan was that if I was in a social situation where the meat was unavoidable, I would eat it. Turns out, not so much. If I am going to eat meat, dammit, I’m going to choose which meat it is and not just eat a random chop.
I do eat fish – but calling myself a pescatarian would be misleading because I don’t eat much of it. And I do allow cross contamination in my cooking, for now (my family are not doing this with me). I also am currently still eating gelatine and, if I can’t avoid it, meat stock.
It has been surprisingly easy. I am, literally, surprised. I don’t miss it, I don’t WANT to eat it, and it has made cooking fun again.
And lastly – and I hate to admit this because I hate healthy food fads – I feel much healthier. I feel cleaner. I don’t know if it is because I’m not eating all the hormones and antibiotics and fear – or if it is because I no longer carry the psychological guilt of doing something that deep down, I know is wrong.
It’s been six months. When it’s been a year, I plan to force myself to be slightly flexible – to eat that crispy bacon piece if I really, really want it. Why? Because I think rigidity is a disturbing character trait, and one I tend towards. But overall – I think it’s done. I’ve done what I never thought I would be able to do. I’ve stopped eating meat. I’ve done what I believe is the right thing.
(PS. I often post pics of my food on Instagram, where I am @therealgailschimmel.)
gail schimmel 