I don’t know what possessed me to do it. I was standing at the stove skimming Nick Kristof’s latest column, feeling intrigued by this quote:
“Michael Spence, a Nobel Prize-winning economist who shares a concern about rising inequality, told me that we’ve seen ‘an evolution from one propertied man, one vote; to one man, one vote; to one person, one vote; trending to one dollar, one vote.'”
I had a freshly cracked egg in a bowl, the small skillet heating up, an oven filled with hot walnut-pecan-blueberry-whole-grain-pancakes and was killing time while Andy finished putting the clothes in the dryer. My plan was to pour the final batch of pancakes on the griddle and start his egg frying as soon as he returned from the laundry room.
I was all, wow, one dollar, one vote, when completely without segue, this popped into my head:
Wouldn’t a grilled cheese made with pancakes instead of bread be good?
Out came two pancakes from the oven; I coated them with vegan butter spread, and slapped on a slice of Havarti. I had it grilled, quartered and arranged on our adorable tapas plates by the time Andy returned. “Presenting a tasting of our chef’s newest creation.”
He loved it; even forewent his usual ketchup. The blueberries and nuts complimented the melted cheese deliciously.
I just googled “grilled cheese made with pancakes” to see how behind the times I am, and discovered that the idea doesn’t seem to be widespread. However, I did learn of (get! this!) grilled cheese made with — guest starring in the role of bread — POTATO pancakes. It features blue cheese, fontal cheese, and apples (baked with a dusting of granulated sugar and a double dusting of brown sugar). Shut. Up!
Guess what else I’ll be making before too long? Grilled cheese made with pumpkin bread! What cheese would be good with that? Gruyere? Cambozola? Both?
What’s that I hear? Is it a cow mooing from deep inside a factory dairy? Nope. It’s the pitter-patter of scrambled guilt sizzling away on the stove.
Will I ever break my addiction to animal products? And what does any of this have to do with Kristof’s column? Did I somehow mean to imply that economic inequality is to blame for my cruel eating habits? That would be preposterous. Where’s my editor? Who’s in control of this post?
One thing I do know is that tomorrow is Meatless Monday — my newly appointed day of the week to go, not only meatless, but vegan.
Last week — my inaugural Vegan Monday — worked out well with this menu for the day:
Breakfast — Kashi Go Lean cereal (which has honey, so technically not vegan, but I’m allowing it for the time being) with vanilla soy milk
Snack — handful of walnuts
Lunch — PB&J sandwich with edamame
Snack — raw carrots
See how easy it is? And I don’t even like vegetables.
In the interest of full disclosure, I will report that the day prior (last Sunday), I had a cheeseburger. Thoughts of Boris did nothing to stave off my beef craving. It was as if I was acting out to compensate for the discipline I’d committed to showing the following day. I don’t like the idea of surrendering to this pattern.
Here’s an idea: maybe I ought to start a counter. It’s been seven days since I last ate beef. How long can I abstain? Setting a specific intention will improve the likelihood of success.
“Andy, how long shall I attempt to go without eating beef? 30? 60? 90 days?”
“You’re not going to get anywhere near that.”
“What?” my jaw lowered in disbelief, “What did you say?”
“Why set yourself up f–“
“Oh. It’s on.” 100 days! That would be until February 28, 2012. I say, “100 days.”
Andy laughs, “It is to laugh.” Then continues, “I, and the imaginary cows you pretend you won’t be eating, thank you in advance.”
So there you have it, no beef for at least 100 days, and tomorrow, like all Mondays for the indefinite future, will be 100% animal free (with the exception of the honey in my cereal).
November — NaBloPoMo — Day Twenty