Of Cycling and Cheeseburgers
It was a couple of years ago that for the first time I found myself "tasting" little morsels of the Co-Habitant's food (invariably meat dishes) when we ate together. I did not want any, mind you, I just felt like a little taste. I also began to notice that these cravings coincided with bike rides. Interesting. No doubt what I was really craving was salt and protein - not necessarily meat. So I ate more salt and protein as I struggled with this unfamiliar new attraction to meatballs and burgers and barbecued ribs. And steak. And paper thin slices of prosciutto. And spicy chicken wings. And hot dogs... One day, after an especially strenuous bike ride we went out to dinner and I just couldn't take it anymore. The smell of meat that had once made me respond with disgust, then indifference, now filled me with longing. I ordered lamb instead of my usual falafel. I still remember how those fragrant, lightly charred bits looked upon my plate. And so ended over a decade of vegetarianism.
I am bewildered by my current love affair with meat. Content for so long to live off lentils, walnuts, vegetable omelets and occasional salmon, I now fantasise about full Irish breakfast, black pudding included. The more I cycle, the worse it gets. The Co-Habitant thinks it's hilarious, but I am rather ashamed. I think vegetarianism is ultimately the healthier diet, and I feel sorry for the little animals. The tasty little animals.... See?! This is terrible. I know there are many vegetarian and even vegan cyclists out there. And they are probably very disappointed to be reading this. But I have to tell it like it is. After riding my bike, I dream of cheeseburgers.