Vegging Out

So, when I first started this blog, one of my intentions was to write about my goals to become healthier and more active. Aside from my brief excursion into running, I haven't really lived up to this task, especially given this, this, and this. (Not to mention the chocolate pecan pie with bourbon I mentioned here, and the recipe for Mississippi Nilla Mud Cake I mentioned a while back but have been too ashamed to post.) After all, you can take the girl out of the South, but can you take the South out of the girl?

Tennessee was ranked 47th in the list of healthiest states in 2008, and Oregon was 16th. This study takes a lot of things into account, like access to health care coverage, etc. so it's not really a fair comparison. So, I will also quote the American Fitness Index for 2008, which ranks cities according to how active and fit their citizens are. Portland is #7 on the list, Nashville is #23. So, while the cities do rank closer together, there's some obvious room for improvement.

I did not grow up on a healthy diet (don't worry Mom, it's not your fault). I was the world's pickiest eater and have a vivid memory of sitting at our dining room table in the dark after everyone had gone to bed because my mom told me I couldn't get up until I ate all my green beans. I absolutely hated green beans with a passion (and anything else green for that matter) until I was in college when I started eating green beans by the can because it was easy and cheap. (Of course even then, they were boiled on the stove for about 30 minutes with 2 or 3 cubes of beef bouillon, but that's beside the point.) Finally I think my mom gave up and just started making the same 3 or 4 meals every week: Hamburger Helper, Tuna Helper, Salisbury Steaks with gravy and rice, and spaghetti (notice - not many veggies, and certainly nothing fresh.) I refused to even TRY new foods, including salad, and I didn't eat my first salad until Justyn and I were dating and I was 22 years old. (He refused to date a picky eater, lucky for me.)

Now that I live in Oregon, it's easy for me to blame the state I lived in for my sorry diet and lack of exercise, but it's not really fair. The truth is, it's just the way I grew up. I was never particularly active - I didn't play team sports or even competitive sports. I tried gymnastics for a while but it didn't stick, and I really wanted to be a cheerleader but that didn't work out either time I tried. I grew up in Louisiana and we spent most of our time poking around in the creek for crawdads, or fishing, riding our 4-wheelers around in the mud, or pulling each other around in cardboard boxes (yes, we really did that). Anyway, my point is that while Justyn was in Colorado skiing and snowboarding and kayaking, etc., and eating every vegetable his mom could figure out how to cook, I was in Nashville trying to figure out how to make my bangs stand up higher, dancing around my room to Debbie Gibson and spritzing myself with Exlclamation! perfume while the smell of Kraft Macaroni & Cheese wafted down the hallway.

I mentioned around Thanksgiving that Justyn's mom came to visit and that she is an amazing cook. Honestly, she has mad kitchen skills that I never even knew existed. The amazing thing about her is that she can just look in the refrigerator and make up stuff using what is available. I have never been around anyone like that, and it is crazy to watch. I truly think that watching her in the kitchen is equivalent to watching Picasso paint a masterpiece. She made some impressive meals for us while she was here, and so after she left there was a definite void. So, I decided that I could also do these wonderful things. But then we started traveling for the holidays, yada yada, (insert excuse here) and I lost momentum.

Then a few weeks ago, I saw this video by Mark Bittman (the guy who wrote the How to Cook Everything cookbooks) and it blew my mind. Note: This video is long (20 minutes) but it is SO WORTH WATCHING. I'm not going to get into the crazy statistics he mentions... just watch it... PLEASE. My regular readers know I'm a self-professed tree-hugger, and to be honest (and admittedly stupid) I have never linked what I eat with the environment. Soon after I saw this video, I was reading one of the many food blogs I follow, and he started talking about being a "part-time vegetarian". Now, Justyn has always told me I would make a great vegetarian (remember the chicken truck incident)? So when I read this, I thought it was a pretty good idea for me.

Okay, okay, don't get freaked out. I know some of you are thinking now I've really gone off the deep end, and my once-subtle liberal tendencies are now spiraling out of control. And I know that Oregon has a reputation for being "the land of fruits and nuts" where a bunch of granola-eating hippies walk around with no bras and armpit hair, but hear me out. I mean, there are some good, intelligent arguments for doing this: it's cheaper, it's healthier, and it's better for the environment. I mean, seriously, how can you go wrong? It's even got a cool name: flexitarianism. Some would say that "omnivore" pretty much covers it (i.e. one who eats meat AND vegetables), but I think "flexitarian" has a nice ring to it. It shows that you are making a conscious decision to be aware of what you eat, and make a concerted effort to decrease your meat and packaged food consumption.

Then I started looking around and I realized I have four (yes, four) vegetarian cookbooks that I have never so much as cracked the binding on. (They were all gifts from Justyn's family, of course.) So, thinking on these things and realizing I had a pretty amazing arsenal with which to begin my foray into veggie-land, I figured I had no further excuses to put it off. I haven't been keeping track of my exact statistics, but I'm pretty sure in the last 2 weeks, I've eaten meat about 3 times... a pretty strong start, I think! Incidentally, and for those of you who are wondering, Justyn used to be a vegetarian before he moved to Nashville. Now he keeps telling me he wants a big juicy steak. I guess you can't take the South out of the man either, even if he only lived there for 6 years.