Wait For It… a blog by Andy Ross

Meat

As an angry, militant vegan even I have to admit that that smells delicious. What is that, a roast? Brisket? Whatever it is, you are a disgusting barbarian for cooking it, but it smells amazing.

Don’t get me wrong; meat is murder, and the subjugation of our animal brethren is tantamount to slavery. At the same time, my nose is in heaven right now. Do I detect a little fennel? Maybe a few shallots roasting in the succulent beef juices? You, sir, are a gifted, heartless monster.

Have you ever looked into the eyes of a cow? Have you seen the love they have for their young? The calm consideration of the world around them? Only to be inhumanely shuffled through a corrupt, unhygienic factory farm system. Slaughtered and sent to your plate to be smothered with a silky burgundy wine sauce and what looks like crispy, pan-fried bacon. What? It’s crackled pork belly? You’ve got to be kidding me! That looks incredible. Oh my god, so crispy and rich. And horrible.

Really, I’m tearing up. I’m not sure if it’s for the tragic loss of that poor cow and pig or if it’s just the beauty of a job well done. Somebody should take a picture of that dish. It could be the cover of a magazine or maybe some pamphlet about avoiding the temptation to eat meat.

Speaking of which, I’ve gotta step outside for a minute and look over some statistics about chickens and their cramped cages. Because, I’m feeling pretty torn right now, and I … uh … is that calamari with lemon zest and a peanut oil breading? Uh, I gotta go. I gotta get out of here. Enjoy your meal. Wait, no, don’t enjoy your meal. I’m … bye.