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I've been feeling a bit out of whack lately from a chronic ailment and started to wonder if my diet was partly to blame. Eating meat
is no cure for
what ails youFor several years, I followed a strict vegetarian diet similar to the one espoused by Dr. Terry Shintani. I was religiously vegan at first -- no animal-based foods of any kind. Lately, I've let it slide occasionally on dairy products, adopting a "don't ask, don't tell" policy when I'm not absolutely sure whether or not the food contains dairy. Cheesecake and pizza sometimes fall in this category.
But I've totally laid off the meat for three years, which suited my tastes and regulated my weight. It became a concern, however, when I read that some vital nutrients -- especially certain B vitamins -- can be obtained only from animal-based foods.
The body holds a generous store of B12, for instance, but it depletes after a few years on a vegetarian diet. According to the article I read, the signs of B12 deficiency can mirror the symptoms of my ailment.
I became obsessed with the idea that my troubles were tied to my diet. I felt my body craving B vitamins the way a smoker craves a long drag after sitting through a three-hour Kevin Costner movie.
There are supplements, but for B12 the only capsules the body really absorbs are made essentially of concentrated meat extract. I saw little difference between taking those pills and eating the actual meat.
If I was going to eat meat after all these years, I decided to go whole hog so to speak. I called a barbeque joint reputed to be the best in Hawaii and ordered a bellybuster slab of spareribs.
I ate about half of it and paused to reflect on the experience. All I could say was...YUCK! I felt the grease dripping down my chin and the dead flesh starting to rot already in my stomach.
I stripped the rest of the meat from the bones and offered it to my Shar-pei Bingo. He sniffed suspiciously at first, doubting after my years of vegetarianism that I would have anything to share that could possibly interest him. When he realized what he had scored, he inhaled it with a naked carnivorous enthusiasm that -- along with the cargo of pork busting my belly -- left me so nauseous that I couldn't eat much of anything for two days. The only food that appealed was a hot bowl of oatmeal.
But I was still worried about my B vitamins and desperate to see if my diet was responsible for making me feel so lousy. So I persisted.
I tried a plate of teriyaki beef, figuring the strong gingery sauce would overwhelm the taste of the meat. I visited the Colonel and ordered chicken drowning in honey sauce. I tried a burger from my grandson Corwin's favorite fast-food shop. I raided the supermarket deli isle and loaded up on the best of the wurst.
Yuck, yuck, yuck and yuck!
I'm back to finding comfort in my oatmeal and brown rice. I can only hope I absorbed enough B12 to last me another couple of years. If not, I'll take it in the butt by hypodermic needle if I have to.
The one thing I learned is that I've lost my taste for meat and it's not coming back. Even the cheesecake isn't looking too appealing anymore. And that doesn't make me feel bad at all.
David Shapiro is managing editor of the Star-Bulletin.
He can be reached by e-mail at dshapiro@starbulletin.com.
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