Cow Sense

For those of you who came in late, in the little flat I share with Saffy and Amanda, we’re all caught in a severe existential crisis.

            As Saffy recently posted on Facebook: “To eat meat, or not to eat meat, that is the question!”

            To which Barney Chen replied, “If u’re serious, I’m unfriending you!”

            And Jeremy added: “So much at STEAK here!”, a comment that attracted 50 likes and ten laughing face emoticons.

            I blame it all on Michael Pollan book “Omnivore’s Dilemma”. Before that Devil’s Handbook came along, we were all happily getting on with our lives, chowing down on fried chicken, happily slicing away on big juicy cuts of pork ribs, and swooning over braised beef stews.

            But then Amanda read it on a trip back from Tokyo and by the time the captain had instructed his cabin crew to disarm the doors, she’d given up meat. The book next went to Sharyn and within two days, she had told her bewildered meat-eating maid that there’d be no more beef hor funs at home. “From now on, hor, we eat tofu and dau-gay!”

            Berna’s eyebrows knitted together in a wrinkle. “But, mum, Ah Boy hates tofu and sir is allergic to dau-gay!”

            Sharyn was unimpressed by the medical diagnosis. “Dey doh wan to eat, den they own self cook! I don have time to cook so many dishes!”

            By that stage, “Omnivore’s Dilemma” had been passed onto Saffy who later said she was so glad Bradley had taken her to Morton’s for their T-bone steak before she’d turned the first page.

            “Because I am telling you, by the time you finish reading that book, you could never look at a cow in the eye ever again!” she told me, her enormous bosom trembling with a carnivore’s regret.

            “And when was the last time you looked a cow in the eye?” I wanted to know.

            Saffy exhaled. “I’m not kidding. There’s black magic in that book!”

All her life, Saffy has looked at vegetarians with the kind of deep prejudice not seen since the Egyptians chased Moses into the Red Sea. There was that time we invited Mark and Jane to dinner and Saffy had slaved all day making a chicken Caesar Salad only to be told as we were sitting down that Jane was a Buddhist vegan.

            “What does that even mean?” Saffy had snapped, her nerves already shredded from having to make the dressing twice because she’d added too much garlic the first time round.

            Jane shifted nervously in her seat. “Uhm. It means that I can’t eat meat. Or…or eggs.”

            “But how is a Buddhist vegan different from an ordinary vegan?” Amanda asked, leaning forward, a glint in her eye.

            Jane looked panicked. “Uhm…It means I can’t have garlic or onions.”

            Saffy sucked in her breath. “But this is a chicken Caesar Salad! It’s got eggs and garlic!”

            “Raw eggs!” I added helpfully. “And chicken!”

            Saffy’s eyes shifted from me back to Jane.

            “It’s ok!” Jane said, flapping her hands. “I’m sorry, I…I thought Mark had said something to…Never mind, really! Here, look, I’ll have some of your bread! Mmm! It’s delicious! Where….where did you get it?” Jane’s jaws chewed rhythmically, the hunted look never leaving her eyes.

            And that was the end of that friendship.

            But now, it’s Saffy’s turn to look at the menu of our local diner and purse her lips. “You know,” she said recently, “I’ve never realized just how much meat there is in everything!”

            Amanda frowned as she flipped the page. “Quinoa and zucchini and lemon for $25? Isn’t that like a side-dish?”

            I shut my menu. “I think I’ll have the hamburger with foie gras.”

            Saffy shut her eyes and moaned.

            Amanda was outraged. “You can’t have hamburger with foie gras while I have quinoa grains!”

            I turned my nose up. “I can because I’ve not read ‘Omnivore’s Dilemma’! And I’m not going to, either!”

            “But that’s not fair!” Amanda protested.

            “Those poor cows!” Saffy bleated.

            “Jack, Margot and Su-ching say they’re not eating with us anymore because of your vegetarianism,” I said severely as I gave my order to the waiter. “They say it’s too difficult especially since the next group outing is that fabulous wagyu kaiseki place in Tanjong Pagar. We’re social outcasts now!”

            “I wish I’d never learnt to read,” Saffy sighed.

            “Twenty-five bucks for quinoa!”

            “Medium rare, please,” I told the waiter.