When I was a wee lass of 17 I made the rather life-changing decision to become a vegetarian. I think it was part teenage rebellion, part wanting to bond with my mother {who, along with my stepdad was a vegetarian} and because I was always a fussy eater.
I went through the years as a lacto-ovo vegie {eating eggs and dairy products} and managed to convert a few other vegies along with way. When I met my husband he was quite the carnivore - only eating potatoes and corn - and that's about it vegie-wise. However, after we moved in together he slowly started eating more vegies {and liking them} and less meat, till he too took up the vegetarian life style.
The years went on, we had a baby girl, and I always said that she'd be raised a vegetarian until she was old enough to make up her own mind. Funnily enough, that'd change soon enough.
We made the decision to head overseas, leaving Aussie shores to visit various parts of France and Italy, and as part of my preparation I started reading plenty of travelogues. And while they did write lovingly of the lifestyle and the architecture and landscape, the subject which received most doting attention was the food. Or should I say, the meat...
Which got me thinking...
