Carol Schatz Papper

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Meals That Don't Walk

I have always found the word "pescetarian" kind of a clunky, affected way to describe the way I choose to eat. I've also learned the hard way not to answer the question of why I gave up meat, chicken and turkey as other people chow down on it around you. These good people ask out of curiosity but always end up arguing your answer. Plus, it seems kind of cold on my part to relate the horrors of factory farming, climate change from cow farts, water over-consumption and my empathy for animal souls to someone digging into a juicy steak. I don't judge other people for their food choices, and I don't want to be judged for mine. So I've learned to say, "I'd love to talk about it later," and then I take the subject off the table, so to speak.

A friend of mine told me she simply says, "I just don't like it." No one can debate that.

Today I saw this clever company name on a delivery truck parked on a Manhattan street and thought, holy cow, what a great idea. Now I'm no longer a fancy pescetarian. I'm just someone who only eats meat without feet.