Okay, this is difficult for me, but bear with me. I became a vegetarian some ten years ago, not for any moral or ethical reasons, just simply because I did not find meat appetizing. It just did not appeal to me. A few years went by and I started eating seafood. This was a huge surprise for me since before then I never really enjoyed fish. I still will not eat shellfish, nor will I eat anything that would require my dissecting the organism in question. I've only managed to start eating shrimp in the past year after a lifetime of disgust of the idea of eating those bugs. Only now I shouldn't eat them due to the insane amounts of cholesterol contained therein. A year or two later, I was lured by 'the gateway meat,' bacon. Mark slowly introduced this gem, having a heap of flavor for little actual meat. This opened the door. It truly is the gateway meat. I started to partake of ham occasionally. I sit here now, coming out of the meat eating closet, admitting to the world, or anyone who is reading this, that I am eating beef for the first time in ten years. It started slowly, a nibble here, a bite there. But in the past few weeks I have indulged in bacon cheeseburgers, in a small Philly cheese steak, and yes, even this very evening, a Delmonico steak. I have not yet reached the stage of eating meat in front of anyone other than Mark. I'm not at all comfortable with the idea. I don't know why it bothers me so much, it seems silly really, when I sit back and think about it. I try to explain it; it feels like I've lost a part of myself, a part of my identity. Label me! I was a vegetarian, very briefly vegan, then a pisco-vegetarian. Now, one of those things that I identified with, identified myself as, was part of my individual culture for so long, I can't even approach considering myself anymore. It's just food, right? Ten years is a long time. I just don't want it to be a spectacle around people when I sit down and they are shocked that I ordered something with beef in it. Or gawk at my rising utensil to my mouth with animal flesh that I admittedly enjoy. I need to ease into this public beef eating thing gradually. That it becomes commonplace and ordinary and comfortable to for me to do in public, in front of other people I know. Today we went meat shopping. I have the strong desire to prepare dishes I fondly remember enjoying. Roast beef sandwiches, beef stroganoff and my mom's hot Italian sausage. I am a hedonist, why would I deprive myself of food items I know I love, that bring back memories of childhood. Mark is enjoying the process, he is delighting in seeing the pleasure that foods he has become apathetic and complacent about, bring such pleasure to me. It is exciting, it is a fresh start for me, everything is new, a world of recipes and flavors have opened up for me. I will be able to order a menu item without asking for modifications of the primary ingredient. So this is my first step, admitting that I am a beef eater. I doubt poultry will follow, I am disgusted by the texture and even years ago I didn't like handling it raw. Mark doesn't even buy it for himself to eat. Tonight, Mark prepared very simply with salt and pepper a cast-iron skillet seared steak with a side of spaetzle tossed in butter, garlic, shallots and topped with a dollop of sour cream, chives and green onions. This is the most meat I've ingested in a very long time. I am coming out... coming out of the meat eating closet.