Back on the Wagon

My mother's kitchen: where the meat magic happens.

Sorry I haven’t posted in more than a week, but I have a good excuse. In the past five days I have eaten five different types of meat: brisket, turkey, meatballs, stuffed veal, chicken and chicken soup. And not one after the other. Last night, as my husband put it, we hit for the meat cycle. Basically, if it had a face, chewed its cud and had split feet, it was served on a platter at my mother’s Rosh Hashana table.

I can’t remember ever eating as much meat as I just have. I no longer have a cholesterol level; I have a gravy level. I don’t recognize my body anymore. Last night my sister and I reviewed our recent diet, and she pointed out that she really believed her hair was weighed down by animal fat. I think it really was. It had lost its shine, its cute bouncy curls. Her hair looked the way I feel. As I look down at my body — hello meat belly — I have decided this is not a good thing.

And so on the way back to Boston, I had the husband drive to Russo’s before we even got home. I now have some radishes hanging out in the kitchen, waiting to be pickled for veggie potluck at the co-op tomorrow night. I think this week is going to be very veggie-based, and THANK GOD, it will culminate in a very much needed fast for Yom Kippur.

I shudder at the thought that I have the rest of the universe’s holidays two months from now. I love spending time with my family for the Jewish holidays, and I do love the food, bad as it is for me. But I feel like I’ve been cheating on my veggie blog, and I’m glad to be back on track. Stay tuned for updates as I get back on the straight and narrow.