*Names have been changed in the interest of confidentiality (and my ability to maintain Facebook friendships)
As we all know my relationship with food leaves much to be desired, I try to reserve judgement about other people's food choices - particularly when I have friends who will do the judging for me.
I have friends, relatives, and acquaintances with incredibly odd food allergies, preferences, and practices. My friend John* is deathly allergic to milk and dairy products. Additionally, he keeps kosher, so it's always an adventure to find a restaurant that can feed him and avoid killing him (preferably both, though concessions must occasionally be made). I have another friend - Elizabeth*- who is highly allergic to mushrooms. Heidi - whose name I won't change because I believe she will want credit where credit is due - merely finds mushrooms offensive - though she will clarify that this should not discourage others from eating them in her presence. Yet others of my friends are lactose intolerant - some pathologically so. I also have friends who keep varying degrees of kosher, which is always an interesting thing to figure out when choosing a restaurant. Some of my friends eat no animal products. Others will eat fish, but not chicken or beef. Some simply avoid red meat. I've lost track of who will die eating (fill in the blank) and who wouldn't be caught dead eating (hey - another blank) - so I try to pick neutral locations and figure people will speak up if an issue should arise. Every once in a while, though, needs clash and cause the following situations to unfold.
Last night, Heidi and I went over to Melissa's* house for a girl's night in. After putting our individually made pizzas in the oven, we settled in for some conversation. Melissa shared a story about her trip to Amish country several years prior. A bunch of people went to the general store, but Melissa "didn't want to buy Amish stuff" and chose to entertain herself on the large field adjoining the store. There was a calf roaming through the grass and it came rather close to Melissa, so she pet the calf. At some point, a friend came out and snapped a picture of Melissa petting said calf, much to the dismay of the Amish boy who accidentally ended up in the corner of the picture. It was from this point on, Melissa said, that she could no longer eat hamburgers because she would always feel like she was eating the cute Amish calf. Heidi - who speaks her mind without provocation - inquired as to whether chickens were an acceptable food choice and Melissa nodded her head as if this were an obvious fact.
We frolicked through a trip down memory lane to an evening when we (I may have been there - who knows) were having dinner with some other friends. Heidi mentioned to Jessica* that the steak was rather tasty. Jessica shook her head, indicating that she did not eat from this section, so Heidi looked at some other dishes. Several people who consider themselves to be vegetarians (myself included) will eat fish - so Heidi pointed out the sea bass. Jessica then looked excitedly at the menu and ordered a chicken dish of some sort. The remainder of the conversation went something like this:
Heidi: But I thought you didn't eat meat?
Jessica: No, I just don't eat beef.
Heidi: But you eat chicken . .
Jessica: Yes
Heidi: Why?
Jessica: Chickens are ugly.
Heidi: I see. So you're a cute-arian?
Jessica: What?
Heidi: You won't eat animals that are cute.
Jessica: Hmm, I suppose so.
Which brings us back to last night's conversation. Heidi, a mathematician, likes things to be clearly laid out and defined, so she pressed on.
Heidi: Are lambs cute?
Melissa: Yes.
H: Shrimp?
M: So not cute.
H: Ok, are pigs cute?
M: Yes.
H: Have you seen a real pig before? You realize Babe is a cartoon, right?
M: Baby pigs are cute.
H: I see. So you won't eat animals that were, at one point, cute?
M: No, I just don't eat animals that are cute.
H: What if there is a particularly ugly cow?
M: What?!
H: An ugly, deformed cow. That's not cute - would you eat that?
M: What? No!
H: Actually, that's probably a good choice. There's probably something wrong with that cow that makes it deformed - so it wouldn't be good to eat it anyway.
H: But little chicks are cute (hand gestures indicating chirping birds) peep, peep, peep.
M: Chickens are not cute.
H: Again, little furry chicks are cute (hand gestures) peep, peep.
Seeing that this wasn't going anywhere - in addition to the fact that we were all in absolute hysterics - we let that particular topic go - if only for a moment.
Heidi then pointed out another friend she'd met at a dinner (we'll call him 'Frederico') who also had interesting theories about acceptable food choices. This particular friend would not eat anything that walked. Heidi, again, needing clarification, pressed on.
Heidi: Ok, so chickens?
Frederico: Walk, yes.
H: Ok. What about ducks?
F: No - I won't eat ducks.
H; But they don't really walk, they waddle.
F: Yeah, I still say they walk.
H: Ok, so no crab or lobster?
F: Lobster is ok.
H: But crabs and lobsters walk.
F: No, they sort of scuttle . . .
H: Well then chickens don't really walk either - they kind of bob side to side and veer in odd directions.
F: (blank stare)
H: Ok, so walking and waddling are cute and scuttling is annoying and punishable by death. I think I get it.
As none of us can leave well enough alone, we (Heidi, Melissa, and I) dug deeper into the realm of weird food practices. I have a second cousin Sarah*, for example, who only eats raw foods. Melissa looked puzzled, so Heidi explained that the theory is that cooking food strips it of all its nutrients, thereby making it useless and disdainful (or something like that). Of course an argument ensued as to whether this theory had any validity, how many nutrients are actually removed during the cooking process, and where one would find a raw-food eating hippy commune in the midwest (Yes - there is such a place). We then spoke about fruitarians - trust me that I'm not making this up. Heidi - the consummate realist - wondered how such a diet was sustainable. Would one need to wait by an apple tree and hope something would fall? What if someone were to run into a tree, thereby causing the fruit to fall off the tree? Would this be murder? How can it truly be determined that fruit fell off the tree and was not pushed, plucked, or otherwise manipulated in some way? Is there a governing body?
Melissa quickly tired of this conversation and made a statement she felt we could all agree on. She declared that she made sure not to buy any makeup or skin care products tested on animals. Taking my cue from Heidi, I prolonged my agony and asked if it was ok if the products were tested on chickens.
And you all thought I was weird.
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