Blessed Be the Fruit (and Veg)
I’ve stopped eating meat because I don’t want to live in Gilead.
“Nothing changes instantaneously: in a gradually heating bathtub you’d be boiled to death before you knew it.”
— Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale.
I’ve never been a huge meat eater. While many folks derive great pleasure from going on barbecue tours or grilling sausages and cedar-planked salmon on a summer afternoon, I’ve never truly enjoyed consuming animal proteins. I did it out of utility, as eating meat was a lazy way for me to get protein. Recently, though, I’ve given up nearly all animal products — in fact, much to my family’s chagrin, I won’t even purchase meat for the household anymore. It’s been a sacrifice and a struggle, but a worthy one.
I’ve stopped eating meat because I don’t want to live in Gilead.
I often wonder what my job would be if I were living in the Republic of Gilead. Best case scenario, I’m drafted into the Martha ranks. I’m a pretty good cook and manager of my household, so I guess it wouldn’t be the worst fate as these things go. And, like a good Martha, I’ve made my kitchen a site of resistance.
