…And I was about to lose it all over a wing on Sunday.
I never thought that I would stop eating meat. Never. I also never realized how easy it would be to stop. If I have learned anything these past couple of months, it’s that it is important to find dishes that not only taste good, but look good. I feel that I am doing a pretty good job with that and to be honest, it’s finding new recipes that keeps me going.
When my coworkers ask if I miss eating meat, I usually tell them I miss the versatility of meat. I miss the endless options of how you can cook meat. I miss all the sauces that you can slather it in. For instance, when the fiancé tries to tempt me, I usually tell him just save me some sauce so I can dip my bread in it. That and the smell is usually all that I need. I miss the ease of eating it so when I don’t feel like cooking, I have other options. But I don’t necessarily miss eating meat.
But when the fiancé came home from spending a weekend at our alma mater Penn State with some Mad Mex wings, I almost lost it. Had it been some Wings Over Happy Valley, I would have definitely been a goner.
I heard them crackling in the oven and there I was looking like a creeper while I “checked on them.” Peep the air quotes. He walked in the kitchen with an accusatory tone. “What are you doing?” Like a child “huh, what do you mean, nothing,” I answered. Now we all know that when somebody starts responding like that, they are up to something. I was.
He grabs them out of the oven still in the tin they are packaged with. I can see and smell that they are nicely glazed with what I assume is Honey Barbeque sauce. Some of the tips are a little burned, but I am all for that. He sits down and guess who is right beside him looking like a creeper again.
He is not even looking at me. His stare is fixed on the television. Mine is fixed on him and those wings. I look at the wings. Then I look at him. I look at the wings. Then I look at him. Back to the wings. Then back to him. He must have noticed because he blurted out “if you want one, just take one.”
Oh, I definitely wanted one and as I sat there, I considered my options. Not before dipping my finger in the sauce to see if that was all I needed this time.
I sit back on the couch and the debate begins. “If I eat one, it’s just one wing in months. Who is going to fault me?” I think to myself. But on the other hand “if I eat a wing, I would lose all the time I built up and my goal of making it to a year without eating meat.”
Decisions. Decisions. Decisions.
I end up doing what any frustrated person would do. I hopped in the shower and took myself to bed with a semi-growling stomach.
