Today: a confession. The other night, I ate a chicken fajita burrito.
Another confession. I am a lousy vegetarian.
You see, I really miss meat sometimes. I miss lasagne, spaghetti bolognaise, gourmet sausages and chicken burritos. 99.99% of the time, I’m ok with that. Cutting meat from my diet was really important to me. But occasionally, when I’m out for dinner, I do crack. And I end up with a chicken fajita burrito for dinner.
And I’m ok with that too. I don’t think that it needs to mean that I’m not a vegetarian and I don’t think that it means I’m a hypocrite. I need to identify as a vegetarian, because it gives me stronger parameters. I eat chicken about once a fortnight (those damn tempting burritos!). But that’s about it. The last time I ate red meat was just after Christmas – my mother fed me rack of lamb when I went to visit and I felt revolting and ill for the whole next day.
I’m definitely not the posterchild for vegetarianism, but I don’t think that’s the point. The point is that with every meal, I have put myself in a position where I get to make a decision about values v. taste. And I think I make the right choice, 99.8% of the time.*
*based on three meals a day over a fortnight.