A Vegetarian in Texas
I’m kind of an oxymoron these days. Everything is bigger out here, including the meat. And I’ve found myself in some especially carnivorous situations lately. I recently went to a restaurant in College Station where the SMALL sirloin was 16 ounces. When is a one-pound slab of beef small? The business cards by the register read: “All Beef. No bull.”
Antlers on the wall are commonplace here. And when I found myself at a barbecue place this weekend, I snapped a quick shot of one of the cashiers.
In case you can’t read his shirt it says: “I didn’t claw my way up to the top of the food chain to eat vegetables.” Needless to say, the only thing I could eat at this place was the banana pudding (and that probably had lard in it…)
Either way, Texas has been a lesson in adaptability. The vegetarian thing is one minor manifestation of that. I’ve learned a lot about myself here, including the fact that I’m okay being the girl who brings a veggie sandwich to a BBQ joint.
[...] They were smitten. I, on the other hand, ate a smuggled-in veggie sandwich. [...]