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TikTok's (not-)Meat is (not-)Bad?

Can a picky eater reduce her meat consumption?

By Amanda FernandesPublished 3 years ago 5 min read
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I need to face the facts: eating meat regularly isn’t helping the planet. Perhaps I can close my eyes to the animal cruelty and the horrors of the meat industry, but one cannot deny climate change. I mean, one can, I think right-wing politicians have proved that much. But one really shouldn’t and I’m not going to. While I wait for corporations to grow a conscience (don’t worry, I’ve got myself a comfy chair) and actually make an effort to clean the mess they’re making, quite literally, I’m looking for small ways I can contribute.

There isn’t much a single person can do, but there are a few smart choices one can make that will harm the planet less. Biodegradable sponges, for example, have replaced my cheap, plastic-infused old ones. Less single-use plastic items also help, though you never really realize how much plastic a person uses on a daily basis until you try to cut it out of your life. Finally, I flirted with the idea of reducing my meat consumption. I already favor chicken and pork over beef because of the price, but if I could eat less of those, it’d cause the biggest impact.

Meat and dairy production alone account for 14.5 percent of the world’s greenhouse gas emissions — as much each year as from all cars, trucks, airplanes and ships combined. It’s a staggering statistic. […] Only drastic changes will make a difference. The World Resource Institute, an environmental research group, recommends that wealthy nations cut their beef, lamb and dairy consumption by 40 percent to meet global emissions goals for 2050. (CLARK, Melissa. A meat-lover’s Guide to Eating Less Meat)

Seems like a plan, then. There’s only one problem: I’m a picky eater. I don’t mean that I’m particularly averse to a few vegetables or that I prefer my food cooked a certain way. No, no. That’s just being a little restrictive. Everybody has something they don’t like. I, however, have the palate of a 12-year-old - and that 12-year-old throws a tantrum every time I show her a carrot and yell at her to eat it.

My daily meals consist of meat and potatoes and all of my burgers are plain. I detest salad with all of my might, especially that evil culprit that plagued my childhood and is now the villain in my nightmares: cabbage! Seafood makes me gag and I have to hide my vegetables in rice or pasta so that I eat them without knowing I’m eating them. If there are still beans on my plate by the time the meat is gone, well, I guess those beans aren’t going to be eaten then! Time for dessert!

For a woman in her early thirties, my eating habits leave much to be desired, and eating at other people’s places is a source of anxiety for me. I’ve become somewhat more adventurous in the last seven years and I even tried subscription boxes that pushed me out of my comfort zone a bit, but I mostly stick to what I know: meat, pasta, potatoes, and whatever veggies I can finely chop so that I don’t have to think about them when I hide them in a mouthful of rice.

When the vegan chicken went viral on tiktok, however, I was intrigued. No way this was a real thing. Right? You can’t turn flour into chicken. That goes against… biology? Chemistry? Common sense? It can’t be a thing.

I did some research and, apparently, it is, indeed, a thing. Seitan has been around for centuries and it has become a popular meat substitute. Because it is made from wheat gluten, it is a great source of protein. Besides, it is remarkably flexible and easy to make. I went down a rabbit hole, finding vegan fried nuggets, vegan barbecue roast, vegan chicken sandwiches. The list seemed to be truly endless, but could a lump of washed flour dough fool a picky eater like me?

Challenge accepted! I might have a limited range of ingredients I like to work with, but I do love to try new recipes and to make seitan all you need is flour and water. Easy.

I did as the Internet told me to: I kneaded flour and water into a firm dough and I let it rest for an hour. Then, I proceeded to wash the starch away by kneading the dough under water.

Knead, rinse, repeat.

Eventually, you’ll be left with milky-clear water and, once you rinse it a final time, a gooey mess that resembles tendons where your dough used to be. From there, you can get creative, but I played it safe. I seasoned it with salt, pepper, and pretty much everything I had in my pantry. Then, I knotted it twice and let it rest another hour.

To say that I lacked confidence in my unappealing lump of wannabe meat is an understatement. It was pale, disgusting, and not at all pleasing to my horrified eyes. Still, I pushed through - but I did cook some pasta on the side. Just in case.

I fried the seitan in butter with garlic until it formed a golden crust, then I let it soak in veggie stock (you can use chicken or beef, but I was aiming for the full vegan experience here) for some 20 minutes. The recipe, I should warn you, said 45 minutes, but I was making a small portion. Also, I have the focus of a goldfish. Watching the pan for nearly an hour wasn’t going to happen.

Finally, I served my seitan and cut into it. As far as texture went, it looked promising. The veggie stock hadn’t made it soggy and it didn’t look nearly as unappetizing as I had anticipated. Taking in a deep breath and bracing myself like the most dramatic of toddlers about to try broccoli for the first time, I took a bite.

This is the moment where I wish I could say I had a great revelation and that my life was forever changed. That, from that moment on, I abdicated of all animal products and welcomed a new chapter of my life. That being picky was no longer a thing and that I welcomed new experiences with ease. All of it because I had bent reality to my will and turned flour into freaking chicken!

Yeah, that did not happen.

I’m a meat-eater at heart and that is what I’ll always be. Seitan is not chicken. However, taking a bite off of it was surprising because it was so good.

Seitan really absorbs the seasoning and the veggie stock and the texture is quite interesting. It’s not exactly meaty; it’s more chewy, more rubbery. It was savory and delicious and I found myself ignoring most of the safety pasta I had made in favor of the seitan. Definitely something I have added to my very exclusive, very limited list of ingredients.

I might not be ready to give up meat yet, but I’ve just found a versatile tool to reduce my meat consumption. I’m discovering new ways of cooking it and I’m having fun with it. You can boil it in chicken stock (but then it isn’t vegan anymore), or break it into pieces and cook it in garlic and soy sauce (a favorite!) or teriyaki sauce (very sweet, easy on the brown sugar!), or you can deep-fry it like nuggets (add a lot of spice, though, because the oil kills the flavor). Not only that, it is considerably cheaper to make protein out of flour and my bank account cannot complain. If this is what vegan food is like, I’m ready to try new ways of consuming less animal product and reduce my carbon footprint in the process.

Have you got any tips?

Sustainability
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About the Creator

Amanda Fernandes

She/Her

Brazilian Immigrant

Writer of queer stories and creator of queer content.

Adapted to The No Sleep Podcast, season 14, episode 21, “The Climb”.

I believe that representation matters and that our community has many stories to tell.

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