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Published: December 6th 2005
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Fifth Anniversary
Bundled up for our blustery weekend in windy Malibu. Griff and I stole away this weekend to celebrate five years of marital bliss! We took the Westy on one of her last voyages camping with the Schutts, and stayed aovernight at a campground in Malibu- one of our favorite weekend getaway spots. We took a long stroll on the beach and watched the sun set, then headed back to the camp sight for a fabulous dinner that Griff had planned with great care. This was to be a very important feast for us. It symbolized a bond that we had never experienced together. This meal was to take our marriage to a new level…you see, for the first time as a married couple, we were going to eat cow together. Yes- you read it correctly- Griff had picked up a succulent cut of beef to prepare for me as my first beef meal in eight years. He called it his “Surf and Turf Specialty” (he brought along salmon as well). I have been planning on slowly integrating red meat back into my diet again, as my research has shown that many of the places we will visit have diets that consist primarily of the stuff. A versatile palate would definitely
make the trip a lot easier.
Now, so many people have told me stories about how, “I used to be a vegetarian, and then one day, I just got the strongest urge to eat a hamburger, and I did, and I like, have never looked back! I wasn’t even sick or anything. The whole veg thing was just a stage.”(That last part, when people say it, they usually look at me sideways, as if to say, “kinda like the stage that YOU’RE in”.) I would usually reply with something like, “Well, this is a pretty long ‘stage’ I’m in them, it’s been about eight yeas now- but I’m glad you’re happy about your choice.” Surely, if so many people have successfully reintroduced meat into their diet, I could too.
I won’t lie. It wasn’t easy. I’m not going to try to make things sound more glamorous than they were…I’ll even admit to sneaking some of the pricey protein to my non-vegetarian dog. As I sat there staring my meat medallion head-on, I began to psych myself up. “This is the BEST meat around! People eat hamburgers from fast food joints and don’t get sick! This is only 3 ounces of
prime beef ! You’ll like it! Griff took so much care into making this for you, and he is so excited for you to taste this. It’s going to be yummy!” And with that I began to cut it. “Look! This is so tender- you could cut it with your fork!” ….and then I began to chew, and after a few bites, I think I actually started to enjoy it. All was well in the carnivore world! I was now a fully-evolved species- the top of the food chain- nothing- not even a COW could bring me down anymore!
Griff poured me a glass of red wine (isn’t that the color that is supposed to go well with beef?) and we laughed and talked over dinner. We talked about our upcoming trip, our hopes for our personal growth, our insecurities, and the reactions we have received from different people. But one thing we both knew now was that I, Amanda Schutt, could eat meat anywhere in the world! I could see myself frolicking from butcher shop to butcher shop, picking out thin steaks in Chile, Tenderloin in Greece, and Prime Rib in Thailand! Hamburgers, Carne Asada Tacos, Beef Stoganoff, Spaghetti with Meatballs- come to mama! My pride swelled, and all other conquests in my life paled to this beautiful moment.
And then…
A strange sensation. A rancid gurgling deep in my belly, that I so clearly recognized, though I had not experienced it in years. That uncertain grumbling, that you sort of wait on to see if it will pass, or if something more genuine is about to occur. I lay in the fetal position on our camp couch and Griff looked on, uncertain about what to do. I reassured him that I was fine, and self-diagnosed myself with what my mother insisted almost every stomachache in my life has ever been- trapped gas. The problem was, that I knew there were no bubbles in my stomach- there was something rotting in there! “Mind over matter!” I kept telling myself. “Don’t let a silly little tummy ache get in the way of your fifth wedding anniversary! You are stronger than this, Mandy. You have climbed mountains, and rafted through treacherous rapids, and bungee jumped from 440 feet, and for heaven’s sake- you survive being surrounded by thirty pre-pubescent children every day- certainly, you can handle three tiny ounces of beef!” But the gurgling continued, and upon Griff’s hundredth inquiry as to if he could get me anything, I quickly responded with, (and all you girls know what I am about to say) “ a rubber band!” When a woman makes this request- take her illness seriously, as it signifies passing the point of no return.
And this is where the story turns ugly. The carnivorous heroine is stopped short by her inability to fully digest cow. I have to say, that I have had much worse experiences with vomit. There was that one time when I was six years old, and threw up in the middle of Wednesday night church. Or on my sixth grade field trip to the Seattle Center where I puked all over my two best friends in the middle of the food court. My father often reminds me, with an unpleasant look on his face, that I was a “projectile vomiter” as a child. (He says this as if I put him through several tragic events that I owe restitution for as an adult.) It gives me some comfort knowing that this past weekend’s experience with upchucking was not in a public place, nor did I project my vomit onto any of my close friends, as I have done in the past.
I am what I like to call a “private puker”, meaning that I don’t’ want anyone rubbing my back or talking or calmly reassuring me. I would prefer these moments of utter humiliation be kept between me and my digestive tract. But, as I am in my lowest, most vulnerable state, my husband somehow magically knows this. It’s weird because we have never had a conversation in which we directly faced the issue of hurling,
head-on. He stood back a bit (perhaps out of sensitivity, perhaps to avoid the splatter) and when I apologized mid-heave, for ruining our special evening, he dutifully denied that anything had been spoiled. He knew exactly what to do and say to make me actually believe that he had enjoyed my company- vomit and all.
What will I do now? How does a fish and fowl gal advance into a heifer and hog eater? I’ll have to check with my doctor. My digestive system may have to make some progress before or during the trip- I can deal with that. But the one thing that I KNOW will progress on our voyage is the relationship that I have with my husband. Five years ago, I got married with excited butterflies in my belly, and though this past weekend, my abdomen didn’t feel quite so euphoric, I knew, just as certainly as I did on my wedding day, that this guy was here for good. I can’t wait to begin this epic journey with my soul mate by my side.
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julia
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the wonders of beef
NOW i can introduce you to the wonderful world of korean barbeque!!! we seriously gotta hit up k-town one more time...