Tofurkey anyone?

November 21, 2006

Okay, having read this story of Harold and Maude (heritage bred, organically fed turkeys raised, slaughtered and eaten by the writer, Novella Carpenter) I am feeling a little queasy and a little teary-eyed. I should have known it was going to be one of those nights when that Maria Sharapova camera commercial with all the tennis balls following her down the street came on as I was treadmilling only made me think “Oh no! All those poor tennis balls are getting run over by a Mack truck just because they wanted to smile at Maria Sharapova.” But of course, I had to go and read the story anyway. I’ve got a pizza in the oven but I’m a little off my feed.  Maybe I’ll just stick to the red wine tonight. The grape may fall but the vine lives on, whereas Harold and Maude are gone forever.

Could I be a real vegetarian? I’m not sure. I tried it once, and while I managed to stay away from beef and chicken for a solid six years or so,  I never did give up the salmon. Now that I’ve been back on the beef for a couple of years in the wake of persistent iron deficiency anemia, it’s hard to imagine going completely back. Just for the sheer convenience of being able to eat whatever you happened to be served while visiting or traveling, it’s a big life simplifier. And I still think my meat consumption is fairly low, usually once a week or so. I’ve started forcing myself to buy meat at Whole Foods, preferably the organic or free range kind. The expense makes me think twice and also helps me savor it all the more. I’m also trying to make a point of learning to cook a few more dishes that are tasty and filling and veggie oriented. Vegetarianism gets boring and unhealthy if all it means to you is rice and spaghetti with red sauce, but maybe if I snazz it up a bit I’ll get all the health benefits, economic benefits, and not feel badly when I order a burger out or let Daniel make me steak au poivre. That’s kind of the direction I’m heading without any big dogmatic switch. I know this doesn’t help Harold, Maude, or the thousands of sentient turkeys that live much shorter and more brutal lives. Such uplifting thoughts for the holidays, I know.  Hey, Alice Munro has a short story about turkey killing. It’s called “The Turkey Season” and it’s in Moons of Jupiter. I think I’ll go read that and eat my pizza and think about Harold and Maude tomorrow.


One Response to “Tofurkey anyone?”

  1. Lauren Says:

    Resist the Tofurky!It be nasty. Do what I plan to do, which is just pile up on the sides — mashed potatoes, stuffing balls, rolls, CRANBERRY SAUCE — and skip the bird.

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