food incarnations

Few people know my personal food rule. I eat an 80/20 diet. 80% veggie. 20% omni. I treat meat as a side dish.

Back in SF, it used to be 80% raw food and 20% cooked food. But then I got way too involved in the raw food scene and started feeling cultish and had to stop hanging out at Cafe Gratitude all the time. I was *this* close to drinking the raw Kool-Aid.

Before that I didn't eat beef for religious reasons (don't tell my mom I sneak galbi). And then before that I didn't eat four-legged animals. The latter was because at a banquet one year an uncle chased me around with the whole tongue of a roasted piglet. Charming guy.

As a kid, however, I ate everything the grown-ups would put in front of me. There were 14 kids in my family. I was the youngest one. I either ate what there was or I didn't eat at all. It's a wonder how selective I am about my food as an adult and how many different food rules I've imposed on myself over the years.

I wonder a lot about that privilege-- the luxury of choosing what I will and won't eat. 854 million people worldwide are malnourished, and I'm pushing a chicken breast off my plate because it's overcooked. Something doesn't seem right about that. Though I'm reminded of a story about Thomas Keller that I will remember forever.

When Chef Keller first opened The French Laundry, he personally slaughtered a dozen live rabbits. They screamed. One rabbit broke its leg trying to get away.

The chef says he now treats every piece of meat that passes through his kitchen with the deepest respect because he understands the extraordinary sacrifice of animals.

One thing is true. We all want to live. But we don't all get to live.

Perhaps that's why we must respect our food. When we do, we honor where our food comes from. And we honor the incredible privilege it is to eat when others cannot. Maybe that's why slow food values appeal to me. It's something to strive for. It's a good way to give back through eating (to the earth, to those who labor, to those in our communities, etc.), rather than just taking from others through our food.

So next time you see me noshing on a box of 6-piece Chicken Mcnuggets, you are welcome to bitch-slap me a little. I never said I was perfect. Though I blame it entirely on that sweet and sour sauce. I can't prove there's crack in there. But I do allege.

-the traveling cupcake