Is White Meat the Dark Side?

As I continue to struggle with the moral dilemma of eating meat, I have strayed on to the carnivorous side of the path. This is much like Luke Skywalker discovering his father is Darth Vader. He is stunned and ashamed, yet knows he cannot change who he is. O.k., that's a little melodramatic. Seriously, though, I do feel guilt and remorse over eating the meat, but not until I have felt the thrill of something tasty crossing my lips.

For the past several years I have made lemon "chicken" by creating the sweet and tangy sauce to serve over rice and Morningstar Farms breaded not-quite-chicken patties. But last night, I made it for real. As I fried the bite-sized pieces of tempura-battered white meat, my mouth began to yearn for a taste. It was all I could do to wait for successive batches of chicken to come out of my wok while I industriously stirred the lemon sauce. (Alright, I did sneak one little bite, but only one.) The smell of the saffron rice with some added spices filled the kitchen and mingled with the sweetness of the lemons. When we finally sat down to dinner, I savored each bite wondering how I had lived without this goodness for so long.

That's it; I'm ruined. I didn't realize how much I missed eating meat dishes until last night. Now, I don't really want to stop again. In addition to this craving, which is probably akin to the one Louis feels in Anne Rice's classic Interview with a Vampire, I have been thinking about how expensive it is to eat vegetarian foods. For example, the boneless, skinless, chicken breasts we had last night were about $2.00 per pound, whereas the fake "chicken" patties go for nearly $4.00 for 10 ounces, which comes to more than $6.00 a pound. In this economy it is hard to justify spending that much money on something made from soy proteins. When you factor in the idea that I have to buy enough to feed my husband and son, the price becomes exorbitant. In addition, as my son pointed out, whether or not I eat the meat doesn't seem to make a big difference. "You know, if half the population did it," he said, "someone might notice." And I suppose he's right, though Henry David Thoreau would argue that I should be an individual and not allow society to dictate my morals.

So here I am again thinking about this food decision that no one else seems to care much about. For now, at least, I'll allow that lovely white chicken breast back into the kitchen on a regular basis. I'll enjoy every bite of it whether it is baked, fried, grilled, or sauced. I'll probably even lick the plate at the end of the meal before the feelings of guilt creep in only to be banished (hopefully) before dinner tomorrow night.