I’m really trying to become better friends with tempeh. It’s just so good for me, how can I keep pushing it away? Sliced thin, no problem. But as it gets thicker, it feels and tastes meatier, and I get grossed out. So I’m taking baby steps, trying bigger and bigger pieces to push myself. Last night’s dinner is a perfect example: baked tempeh (garden veggie) cubes with poultry seasoning, nutritional yeast, some garlic and onion powders, and olive oil. It actually turned out pretty tasty. I still had to cut the cubes in half and eat them in the same bite as some couscous, but I ate it. And maybe next time I can handle whole (still less than an inch) cubes. The day may yet come when I can eat a whole 4-ounce slab.
It could happen. Sure, it’s been 23 years since I’ve eaten a hot dog, but I used to really like them. Now I couldn’t imagine eating one, whether it’s made out of animals or not. And just five years ago, there was no way I’d eat a piece of tofu, fried, baked, or scrambled. Now I dig it, if it’s not too squishy. It just proves (to me, at least) that our tastes can change over time.
Maybe, one day off in the far, far future, I’ll get Tom to eat brussels sprouts. And maybe I’ll find a vegan hot dog that doesn’t make me want to puke.