The Accidental Vegetarian, or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Grocery Bill

It was already well into the New Year's Eve festivities when my husband pulled me aside and said, in his most serious tone: "My New Year's resolution is to be vegetarian. So don't buy me any more meat!" In the ensuing hilarity (dancing wildly to LMFAO and Lady Gaga), it could have been forgotten. Only later the next day, sitting on the couch with some Pedialyte (yay electrolytes!), finally home again in Columbus after two weeks with our in-laws, did John bring it up again.

And so I accidentally became (mostly) vegetarian.

Yet, there wasn't a battle cry. We didn't rush into this project out of ideology, nor was the shift all that sudden. This change had been percolating for more than a year, with food documentaries and Michael Pollan books, with the introduction of new vegetables and methods and attempts to make vegetarian entrees that didn't leave us hungry. We had been trying to consume less meat, and to ensure that the meat we did consume was the highest quality, most humane product we could find. So we became more aware, and tried to shift our focus away from the poultry and pork as we continued to explore new recipes.

Yet, I wouldn't call myself a vegetarian to anybody who asked. Not only because I've cheated several times (the carnitas enchilada at Mad Mex will always call to me), but because I don't feel that I fit neatly into that categorization. I wouldn't ask other people to cater specially to me, and I do still want to make exceptions for fish now and then, or the occasional plate of pulled pork.

It's more of an exercise, a fun test of our culinary creativity and a way to experience some new foods. It's a mental exercise; planning meals and finding ways to make vegetarian versions of favorite meat dishes (chili, shepherd's pie, pad thai). I should also explain: we aren't tofu vegetarians. What I mean by that is, we didn't just take out meat and substitute tofu and soy-based replacements. I don't believe that's any healthier than eating meat.

As a part of this endeavor, John gave me the world's best Christmas present. He decided instead of material things that are quickly forgotten, he would give me the gift of time. His letter to me on Christmas morning mentioned cooking dinner together, unplugging our phones and our laptops, and spending real time together without the distractions of technology (though I would amend that to say it's still ok to play video games together or watch an interesting documentary as part of our quality time, but I agree the phones and laptops can turn off for the night).

Soon after, we were wandering in a book store, hunting the after-Christmas sales, and John was eyeing vegetarian cookbooks. I had the proverbial lightbulb over my head and suggested that the goal of the twice-monthly (or so) date nights could be to cook our way through a vegetarian cookbook.

Thus, we bought the brilliant Plenty by Yotam Ottolenghi. It has gorgeous pictures, and the recipes are all vegetarian, and rather daring. Some will be a test of our supermarkets (locating quail eggs, palm sugar, scarmorza cheese), some a test of our wallets (saffron, rare spice blends, expensive cheeses), but the results should be fascinating.

Up this week: Caramelized Garlic Tart, with Caramelized Fennel with Goat Cheese as a side. Wish us luck!