Vertumnus' Girl

The summer after seventh grade tasted like no other before it.

Beginning with hints of determination, a following scent of regret. Notes of desire and bitterness, of longing. An aerated isolation. Alien. Difficult. The problem child. <------- Hey! That's me!

The last day of seventh grade, I gathered the courage to tell my family I wanted to become a vegetarian. So that summer - instead of my dad’s homemade hamburgers - I was feasting frozen fakes, testing tofu, stomaching salads. I was downing quesadillas like they were molten gold.

Watching television was torture; all the vibrant advertisements for crispy chicken sandwiches or meaty marinara pasta. The word “craving” became its own breathing beast behind me. I had never truly understood it before.

The summer after seventh grade tasted like a lifetime of eating sides at restaurants and snacks at parties - why do so many of our social gatherings revolve around food? It was a flavor of repetitive ordering, the one thing I could have on the whole menu. A sour note of spending more money for a cheaper substitution. The awkward interjections of telling and reminding my friends, my family, that I couldn't eat that.

"Couldn't" and "wouldn't" danced in my mind, tangling together, pulling apart. Which was it?

Everybody has their reasons, and I'm not one to preach the lifestyle. I just couldn't stand the thought of eating animals any longer. I wouldn't do it.

The first three months are the hard part;

Then the rest is easy.

That's what I always tell people if they ask me about becoming vegetarian. And it's true in many ways. But like most things, there can be a bit more nuance underneath the surface.

After three months of cravings and slip-ups and guilt (both for the slip-ups and for being the black sheep [er... black berry?] complicating family dinners), everything becomes easier. I realized that I was ogling the crunchy, fried batter more than the chicken. A switch flicked in my peanut brain - suddenly the meaty foods that I had known and loved all my life were nothing to me. I feel the same about them as I do cherry tomatoes or blue cheese, which I declare gross.

But after that point, it became a little dodgy in other ways. Going so long without meat in my diet made me more intolerant to it. Accidents were now issues. I got incredibly sick after eating bell peppers at a friend's house that I learned had been crock-potted alongside porkchops. And I've had to step out of my family's favorite barbeque restaurants, stomach reeling from the smoky smells inside.

Despite the trials and tribulations of eating a vegetarian diet (in Texas, nonetheless), I knew that I was committed. So I kept it up, slowly learning what worked and what didn't, how and where to get protein, which frozen options were actually decent, and how the heck to make veggies taste good!

Enter, my mom: a dang good home cook. I loved helping her in the kitchen... most of the time. She was a STICKLER for the recipe - of which she had a giant wheely bin full. Family heirlooms, magazine cutouts, notes scribbled during cooking shows, she has recipes from everywhere and every time. They're even organized by food categories. She has a bean folder.

By combining my adventurous [haphazard] cooking style with her measuring cups and Food Network, we learned some amazing things.

Vegetarianizing my favorite meals was our first battle. Shepherds pie with plant based 'meat' crumbles, eggs on toast with soy bacon (which I affectionately call 'cardboard bacon'), basil pasta salad - hold the pepperoni, extra cheese cubes! My quesadillas were now packed with vegetarian refried beans and healthy tomato, spinach, and onion.

Eight years on, I'm home for the summer, getting ready to tackle my thesis projects in the fall semester. Back home with mom, cooking away for everyone. Roasting veggies in the oven, making curry in the InstantPot, stirring salads in her why-do-we-have-dishes-this-freaking-huge bowls.

This summer tastes like success, like confidence in myself and my choices. It tastes like the sweetness of spending hours in the kitchen with my mother. Gentle hints of bitterness as she reminds me over and over to be careful with the knife (I'm twenty-one, dammit!). Light notes of sour laughter as we spritz lemon juice all over the counters. The scent of savory smiles as we finally kick tofu's butt. And umami - which is simply enjoyed in the presence of my-mami.

Cheers to us, mom. We've come a long way. You've taught me everything that I know about cooking and eating - and loving both steps of the process. You've been my supporter from the first intentionally vegetarian meal, eating away alongside me. Two hungry, hungry hippos.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

And thus...

Here is Jenna's list of 5 (count 'em, FIVE) foods to save your life when joining the veggie club.

5. Beyond Meat - pea protein burgers (also everything else they have)

You're simply the best! Dun dun dun dun! Better than all the rest! These things are so dang good! They are savory with just a hint of sweetness, and have beet 'juices' (yikes) to emulate ye olde hamburger. My dad likes them - my DAD!! Grill 'em up! Get 'em in your body now!

Soy Sauce Ramen - the only of the Maruchan family that is safe*

*Okay, I know. They have gelatin in them, which isn't the best or the most holy of vegetarian / vegan things. But college students do what they gotta do - sacrifices need to be made. Bear with me! I make a giant soup out of these with more cabbage than should be humanly consumable in one sitting. And you get your full daily water intake! [sarcasm]

3. Spaghetti Squash - a new pasta is in town... to replace your... uh... meat noodles? Not a thing? Whatever, it stays on the list!

Spaghetti squash is just as it sounds, squash that is cooked, and then scraped out [of the boiling hot shell with minimal screaming] into little squash noodles! So cute! Also really tasty! Savory deliciousness with pesto or marinara. Add sauteed zucchini and summer squash for extra pizazz.

2. Morning Star Chik'n - nuggies, patties, sausages... You name it, I've eaten in and loved it.

Can't go wrong with these overpriced frozen babies. Pop 'em in the oven for crispy goodness - but I know that you, like myself, will just microwave them for speedy goodness. Ketchup, ranch, barbeque sauce, chick-fil-a sauce, pick your poison and dip away. You won't be dipappointed.

1. Jenna's Famous Dorm-Room Soup - might be a chili, might be a stir-fry, might be superman... [souperman]....

Just take whatever crap you have lying around - cut the veggies, open the cans, crunch the crackers - and throw it in a giant pot. Then heat it up with water (or veggie stock, if you're feeling fancy) until it feels warm. And then eat it. It is a simple, homegrown recipe. Often cooked for half an hour while wearing a backpack because some weird people forget to take their 30-pound backpack off when they get back from class. Fan favorites include canned veggies (the mixed one), various types of beans (there are too many types of beans to limit yourself), and fresh stuff that is teetering on the edge of becoming not fresh stuff. Oh, and add cheese. In fact...

6. Cheese - nevermind.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

For those of you that made it to the end, here's a shameful little secret:

That last day of seventh grade, I told my mom my decision in the car after she picked me up from school. "What do you want for dinner then, as your last meat-meal?"

Crappy popcorn chicken from the Sonic drive thru holds its rank as my last.

With love, and luck-crusted tofu,

Jenna