Yah. For real.

P, with his first chicken.

Its hard to know where to begin here... ;)

I remember registering for our wedding. As I skipped over the carving fork in our setting, the saleslady sternly said no. But I'm vegetarian, I said. Oh dear, you just never know, she said to me. I distinctly remember feeling peeved. Oh dear, I thought, but I do know.

We raised our own beef, I rode horses, rounding with my father (for the very brief period during which my little brother was too small to "help." Once slightly bigger, he displaced me, due to him being a boy and all. And so spring the seeds of feminism in the west...) Meat was a breakfast,lunch and dinner affair in our house. But alongside those feminist seeds sprung some hearty vegetarian ones, much to my parent's dismay ;) But it seemed so natural to me.

Then I reached my teen years and soon the environmentalist roots ran deep too, a veritable death sentence to my family dinners. Aunts scoffed when I passed over the Tday turkey, brothers teased, parents sighed. Eventually, I was in college and happily headed down the veggie path, only baited on breaks.

E always enjoyed meat. And he's not quite the softy for Bambi eyes that I am, either. So it was the environment that kept our dining fare on the same table. It also led us to veganism, which I enjoyed even more. No sticky dishes, zero animal deaths due to my diet, and delicious to boot. Granted, cheese is hard to give up... but I was dedicated :)

Little by little, the last 5 years have led us down another path. Short of living in the refrigerator, my body wasn't gonna grow a big baby without some bulk. In inched the eggs and cheese and yogurt and out popped a huge, healthy baby. His allergies happily had us vegan for a while again... and then cancer landed E back in the milk drinking category. Then P's allergies shifted and we added in eggs again. Thus, the child had serious protein sources on which to grow (his allergies preventing the fave vegan options of nuts and tofu and beans being too high in fiber/low in fat to be his only alternative) and E had his dairy. Homeostasis seemed to be reached.

Then came the doctor's orders for fish. And E's head shake. And then, eventually, E's agreement. And so, for the last year, I've made him tuna fish salad for lunch each Saturday and he has fish out occasionally. Every dinner was protein packed with beans, cheese, eggs, quinoa, whole grains, a by the book buffet for hypoglycemics. Ahhh, homeostasis in the home...

And then, a friend posted a salmon cake recipe on her blog. Hey! I had cans of salmon around, in case E started to crash and needed a quick protein pick-me-up! I could make those for him for a surprise! I did, he loved them... and, amazingly, so did the child. The next day, E had his usual tuna salad for lunch after his egg breakfast. That night, was P's half-birthday dinner out and E.... had fish... again. That's three times in two days, a never before featured feat.

The next morning, he glowed. I shit you not. I haven't seen him look like that since we fasted a decade ago. And even more, he said he felt good. Alert. Awake. Energetic even. These are, typically, not words used to describe Ethan. Shit.

This is a tough spot, philosophically. Containing traces of the baby making decision. Where is the line, the one that stops at what you want/need and begins with what the rest of the world/planet needs? This planet certainly didn't need another North American citizen eating up resources. Did we really need to have a child? Or was it just a want? Obviously, we, eventually, landed on the side of need on that one :) (But its an endless cycle! Does the child really need a sibling, or just want one? We're gonna stick with want one and give him the opportunity to hate us for it later...)

So, there we were. E's felt like shit for 20 years... which is when he stopped eating meat.... So, its not just that he wants the turkey burger ;) Unnecessarily long story short, we decided to try eating meat. I know.

Fortunately, P's been enjoying Laura Ingalls Wilder in the evenings. When we read about Pa smoking the venison, the Little Man was engrossed. Then I told him about my father's venison jerky. It was the one meat I ate that I really enjoyed. Dad had hunted it, after it ran free. Then he had it salted and smoked - till it was delicious. I remember my little brother and I walking around the house, chomping on the stuff; greasy grins of delight. These stories planted omnivore seeds in my son, much as Bambi planted vegetarian seeds in me. When we told him we were buying a chicken for Papa, he wanted to try it.

But, honestly, I wasn't sure if, after all of his previous remarks, he'd follow through. After all, this is the kid that, walking through the fish stalls, mutters "poor, poor fishies." But we didn't even make it out of Whole Foods before the kid raked the rotisserie lid off the bird and bit in. And smiled.

Arriving home and finishing off our fowl, there was waste galore left behind. This would not do. The bones were tossed into a pot for stock (and then picked clean by the child. He, of course, wants to start a bone collection...). And the pre-cooked chicken was sworn off, no more vast plastic packages, we were already fucking with the environment enough now.

So this week has been busy for me after the Little Man hits the hay. Because I had never cooked meat in my life. And now I need to know the best way to buy it (free range and local only) and cook it (full bird, dinner leftovers and then bone broth) for us - and the planet - the one that I can hear sighing that sad sound...

Obviously, the guilt is there :) I really want E to feel healthy. I want P to eat as he needs (E has always been concerned they share body types.) And I want to do what is right. So we've settled on guilt metering guidelines :) No mammals. Period. That leaves us with fish and fowl for experiments. For the fowl, we're only doing small farm, free-range, organic. For the fish, wild, and pole caught, as much as possible. No nets. This doesn't really cut the crime, but it makes sense. (A dream from last night: We were eating at a restaurant. They'd heard we were eating meat and offered us beef and lamb. "No thank you, just fish and fowl." "No problem! We have sea food too! Would you like the Whale or the Sea Lion?" "No, no! No Mammals!" " Oh, but they're from the sea, ma'am. May I suggest the whale?" At which point I fell apart, that anyone could slaughter such a matriarchal beauty... "They talk," I blubbered. "They have dialects!!" Oy. It will get easier, no?)

And speaking of easy. After swearing off the store bought packaged bit, I wasn't so sure I could swallow sauteing the raw stuff... But its been surprisingly simple. I think knowing the life they've led helps me. Imagining them growing strong, pecking around with relative freedom, gives me the freedom to give thanks for the health it will give my family. Mind over matter in action. Much like I can't stomach caged eggs. Little beak-less hens shoved into each other's shit. Umm, I'll skip breakfast today...

And so, when my child ran up to me with his new prize (of a pile of chicken bones- sheesh) and asked me to help him dig the marrow out of the big bone with the sharpened little bone (he was making a flute)... I had to laugh. "Please, P. I was just vegetarian the day before yesterday. I need another day or two before I do bone marrow..." :)

Anyway :) I have to go check my chicken stock, simmering on the stove. (I boiled the bones last week and the boys drank it all. I'm hoping to save some this week for the asparagus (yay spring!!!!!!)soup.... I wonder if it will taste much different than soup with veggie stock???) And then I have to write a thank you note to that saleslady, her name was Sally R. Cuz, we very much enjoyed using our carving fork last night for dinner.... 13 years in the back of drawers hadn't done it a bit of harm.