After I reluctantly revealed to my family that on last weekend's visit I would be eating meat with them, I proceeded to eat a wide assortment of animal products with gusto. Highlights include chicken, hot links and other sausages on the BBQ at Dan and Alina’s housewarming party, a sushi feast, and even a hamburger. I suspected that the weekend would hold some delights, given that I always eat well when I visit my family in the bay area. I think my favorite part of this little experiment is the vast selection of foods that I can choose from. This is a little dangerous for me given my inability to make insignificant decisions, but it feels adventurous and refreshing to be able to try everything at a restaurant. It is liberating to be able to eat whatever is offered to you. In the past, especially growing up in a small town with few fellow vegetarians, it always felt awkward to have to refuse the hospitality of friends who offered me meat. It was out of this awkwardness, along with a palpable fear of malnutrition, that sparked my last carnivorous dabble, during my semester abroad in Ecuador.
It turns out that Ecuadorians do not eat very many vegetables, or, for that matter, much else besides meat and starch. After a few too many meals of white rice and potatoes, I caved and announced to my host family that I was ready to start eating meat. They were delighted, mostly because they liked the idea that they had corrupted my healthy ways. I don’t know if anyone else can speak to this, but being a vegetarian in Ecuador is impossible. In my first weeks there I ordered a vegetable soup with lunch and my first spoonful in the murky broth revealed a large chicken foot.
Luckily I escaped that four-month stint without ever eating a cuy—guinea pig, an Ecuadorian delicacy—although I saw enough of them speared and roasted for my 10-year-old self to turn in her grave. Particularly traumatizing was the morning I woke up a little hung-over and groggy, opened the fridge for breakfast, and found a half-eaten cuy sitting in the fridge, uncovered and staring at me. I’m sure it is delicious, but I don’t think I will ever be able to eat an animal that I have had as a pet, especially given the tragic death of my childhood guinea pigs that may or may not have been my fault. Cuy aside, I think that having an open mind about food, including eating meat when you might have been a vegetarian, or even eating things that might give you the runs later, is key to traveling with spontaneity and immersing yourself in a new culture.
And while my family has always been particularly accommodating to my diet, it was kind of nice to be able to immerse myself in the food they prepared, no reservations (as long as no pets are involved).
