If you put crumbled bacon on my plate, am I not human?
Many have questioned the thinking behind my vegetarian "exceptions" which include juices, broths, small bits, seafood, and wild game. Obviously my recent efforts are not about saving animals or making a public policy statement. Rather, I am trying to reorder the chaos inherent in a previously wildly omnivorous lifestyle by simplifying my consumption. The Exceptions, hence, are necessary so that I am not a Complete Pain In The Ass to myself or to you - meaning, all of you in the world.
That is, you will not have to invite me over to your house and fret about what to feed me. I will either eat around what I can or bring my own food. You will not have to refrain from using flavorful ingredients just because I'm there because it's probably in the form of broth or small bits. You will not have to see me turn my nose up at the wild game you've slaughtered and offered. I will eat it, out of respect. You will not have to observe me withering away due to malnutrition because I can always resort to seafood protein.
You see, I aim to please. I am a very cooperative "vegetarian."
For the most part, I have been very religious about not exploiting my exceptions. They aren't about trying to sneak a little meat in; after all, this restricted diet is entirely self-imposed, of indefinite duration, and absolutely arbitrary (as all of my friends like to remind me). Today, however, presented a difficult challenge because I intend to go swimming later this evening.
Swimming, for those who do not know me well, is my absolute nemesis. It falls in a category of very eclectic activities which I refer to as Areas In Which I Am Wholly Incompetent. Swimming might even be at the top of the list. I will save the origin of my incompetence for another day, another blog entry, but for now, suffice it to say, I will desperately need my strength to survive tonight's swim. (During my last lap swim, I attracted the attention of a handsome lifeguard and NOT because of a sexy swimsuit.)
Fueled now primarily by Brown Pellets, my energy this week has been flailing. I don't want to provide the daily paper with what would be an unfortunate headline - "Local Attorney Drowns In High School Swimming Pool, Stomach Full Of Mysterious Brown Pellets." I decided I probably needed some kind of real meal today to charge my reserves. A lunch with a friend at Snow City (Cafe) seemed to be the perfect solution. But what to order?
I finally settled on the "Heart Attack On A Plate," described as follows on their online menu:
Heart Attack on a Plate/ or Veggie Bypass
Hash browns, bacon crumbles, onions, mushrooms, Roma tomatoes, cheddar cheese, sour cream (Veggie Bypass has no bacon) Half order 5.95 Full Order 8.50
With two eggs, add 2.00
In the past, the Heart Attack has been my go-to entree, simple, hard to mess up, and filling. Now ordering the "Veggie Bypass" would perhaps have been an option, but I must insist it was not that prominently displayed in the hardcopy menu.
But I have to admit that I saw it. The stupid Veggie Bypass. But I wanted a Heart Attack, not a Bypass! Apples and oranges. Or rather, Bacon or no Bacon.
The saving grace here was the phrase, "bacon crumbles," or more specifically, crumbles. If there is anything that screams SMALL BIT, it is a crumble of bacon.
So I am coming clean, confessing openly to the farthest reaches of the Internet:
I ate some small bits of bacon.
In my defense, I thought that my Heart Attack could retain the bacon flavor without forcing consumption of the bacon itself. After all, I had already so carefully avoided chunks of sausage in a recent breakfast of Biscuits and Gravy by navigating around the Small But Significant Bits. I felt confident I could do so again, but for one unexpected reality:
The bacon bits were stuck in my Heart Attack.
That's right, the bacon crumbles were secured to the dish by a layer of gooey, melted cheese, absolutely inextricable. There was nothing I could do. I could not have plucked those bacony small bits free any more than I could have saved all those woolly mammoths who got stuck in the La Brea Tar Pits thousands of years ago.
It was as it was meant to be. As Fate intended.
So I ate some bacon crumbles. I'm not proud of it, but I've made my peace. Someone else might decide to throw in the towel now, but I am going to persevere. (For one thing, I still have lots of Costco Brown Pellets left in my freezer.) In my further defense, I did order only a half order of the Heart Attack with eggs over easy. As the waiter repeated back to me:
"Half a Heart Attack Over Easy."
Now you tell me that doesn't sound perfectly harmless?
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