So He Married a Vegetarian

If you are of a certain vintage, perhaps you remember the amazing comedy "So I Married an Axe Murderer" with Mike Meyers. My husband and I love this movie, from its glamorous portrayal of the Bay Area (where we met in 2006), to the catchy La's song "There She Goes" and of course, the unforgettable Rob Stewart tunes on the bagpipes.



Thank you for indulging me.

Anyway. More to the point. When I met my husband, he ate meat. He ate food out of boxes and bags. He didn't cook food, he heated food, and occasionally ordered food. And then I came along, in a flurry of vegetarian fervor, promising that there was life beyond frozen BBQ chicken pizza. Several years later, he married me. Or, as my feminist conscience reminds me (Julia, I hear your voice in my head...should I worry?), we married each other.

And now, several years later, he is a mostly-vegetarian. (No meat allowed in the house.) He eats tofu. And...gasp...all kinds of vegetables. (He actually uttered the words last night, "This cauliflower melts in my mouth.") He helps out in the kitchen. He brags about my cooking. Most of all, he is supportive of my quest to experiment in the kitchen and has learned the mantra, "Wow, you didn't make THAT big of a mess this time." And he cleans up with a smile. Seriously, what more could anyone want in a partner?

I hope this blog will be a place where I can share vegetarian recipes and reviews of veg friendly restaurants, contemplate the leap into veganhood, address the all important question of deciding what to make for dinner, and celebrate vegetarianism, local food, and marital bliss.