I actually drank the last meat I ever consumed. Yes, that’s correct. Before my vegetarian odyssey began, the last meat I had was in a peanut butter, banana and bacon milkshake. Sounds like the American dream, right? Well, it was the bacon that got caught in the straw that caused it to be the last.

Being on a limited diet for about a month now has certainly been interesting. Now I should clarify that I’m technically a pescetarian, because I like sushi and mercury poisoning. If you haven’t already noticed, there is a lack of oceans in central New York. Sorry, dining hall haddock, but not today. I also don’t want to sound any more pretentious than I already am, so for the most part, I’ve been the least healthy vegetarian in the world. Thankfully, there is no meat in French fries.

Since my vegetarianism came more out of dietary necessity than choice, it can be pretty tough. I can’t even put that “chicken flavor packet” on my ramen. Even though the whole killing animals part is pretty terrible, I did enjoy eating them.

The dining halls are surprisingly accommodating to those of us with dietary restrictions, so for the first few days of the school year, I made out OK. A little salad, some pasta and a slice of pizza and I was good to go.

But then came Memorial Day. Memorial Day is basically synonymous with grilling, which, in turn, is basically synonymous with meat. I faced my first meatless Memorial Day with dread.

When I discussed my beef boycott with my fraternity grill master, he thankfully understood and got some veggie burgers for the cookout. Fraternities often have a “first time for everything mentality” regarding lots of experiences, but eating textured vegetable proteins? Who knew!

My first veggie burger was, surprisingly, not awful. It wasn’t long, however, until I found out the big difference between the burgers — in addition to the meat aspect.

Hamburgers, besides being the cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast, are usually pretty decent. Even when they’re bad, they’re still pretty good. Veggie burgers, on the other hand, are a different matter. When they’re bad, they’re bad.

A few weeks after my first faux burger experience, I decided to go to the mecca for all vegetarians: Burger King. Until I studied the menu board in Goldstein, I had no clue that the King made veggie burgers. Apparently the poor girl behind the counter didn’t either, because when I ordered one, she looked at me like the king of burgers himself had just entered the room.

When the order went through, I saw the cook’s head disappear into the freezer. The veggie patties he unearthed had been buried since the Burger King was the Burger Prince.

Apparently the cashier couldn’t even find the veggie burger button on the register, so I was charged for a fish sandwich. Let’s face it; I can’t blame any of the people involved because nobody in their right mind orders a veggie burger from Burger King.

I learned a lot about the world and myself that day. For one thing, don’t ever buy a veggie burger from Burger King. There’s probably not enough meat in the hamburgers anyway, so you might as well order one of those. I was left wondering why they put vegetables on top of my vegetable burger. I sensed some veggie overkill going on here.

My encounter with the BK Veggie also revealed a deep secret about vegetarian foods. They don’t have a lot of confidence. You never see meat pretending to be vegetables — although having a salad made completely out of deli meat sounds pretty good.

Veggie burgers, “smart dogs,” tofurkey — they’re all trying to be something they’re not. They’re not going to come close to the real thing, so why even bother? You vegetables out there, be yourselves. Don’t pretend to be the burger you aren’t. Celebrate the tomato you are.

Zach Schweikert is a sophomore advertising major. He once won a Nobel Prize, but it was a mistake. His column appears every Thursday in Pulp. He can be reached at zdschwei@syr.edu.

 

Published on September 25, 2014 at 12:01 am