Many vegetarians start out the way I did: as 14-year-old girls. Quite a few also end the way I did: with fried chicken. In my case, vegetarianism was a brief fling, weighed down by the earnest food of the post-commune early ’70s. When I tried to share sprouted-wheat-soy-lentil loaves and the like, my friends and family always felt there was something (flavor, meat) missing.
I’m always baffled when people tell me that they never cook. Eating is a necessity, so cooking something at least once in a while shouldn’t be too far behind, right?
Maybe it’s not fair to judge, since I cook for a living. Even after a day in the EatingWell Test Kitchen developing recipes, I’ll often go home and cook dinner.