I’ll admit it, I love tofu. I mean, enjoy this much-maligned food to the extend of eating chilled slices of it plain, right out of the fridge. It’s just sorta been my thing – some people snack on chips or ice cream, I like cold chunks of pale soybean curd. 🙂 The hubster and I are packing for our 2016 maiden voyage in the RV and he was sneering wildly at my glass containers of cubed tofu and I was sneering just as wildly at his bag of Doritos. Tomatoes, tomahtoes, people. On man’s tasty snack is another man’s reason to vomit, I guess.
I would describe myself as vegan-ish. I don’t eat any meat at all, and only eat dairy/eggs on the rare occasions we’re at a restaurant where there aren’t any vegan options. No one wants to be that pain in the a** who nobody can take to dinner – am I right? My spouse, on the other hand, well… given his aversion to vegetables, calling him an omnivore is being really, really generous. And this difference in our diets can create some pretty interesting “situations” in our marriage and lifestyle.
Open the fridge and right next to the plastic gallon of whole cow’s milk, you’ll see a quart sized glass bottle of freshly made soymilk. I’ve been dabbling in vegan cheesemaking, so you’ll see large chunks of that right next to the stuff that can only loosely be called “cheese,” wrapped in individual slices. There are cans of seltzer water cohabiting with the Pepsi, and bricks of tofu nodding “What’s up” to the steak on the same shelf. Don’t let the two overflowing drawers of veggies and fruit fool you, either. Those are only ever opened by me. I’d say that the only place we meet in the middle is in the fridge door where the condiments reside. Even then, his Miracle Whip is rather disdainful of my Vegenaise.
Looking in our shower room, you’ll find the Alba, Aveda, and Pacifica (vegan shampoos, conditioners, soap, and lotion) casting sideways glances at the Old Spice body wash. Oh, and ignore the wet towel tossed on the floor – he does crazy stuff like that to remind me that he’s there. lol
The thing is, it works for us. Sure, I bug him sometimes about his unhealthy eating habits, but how seriously is a guy who smokes two packs a day going to take something like that? So I sneak in the healthy stuff when he’s not paying attention and try to not dwell on the rest (like the shuddering he does when I’m eating a salad). He’ll eat an agar agar jiggler and not complain that it’s not Jello. I’ll buy his (gross) stuff and not complain that it makes me queasy to put some of this stuff in my shopping cart.
In the end, it’s part of what makes us…us.
What do YOU think?