Meat Head: Brandt's Explanation

Do you see those pictures up there? They look great, don't they. They're my meals from our trip to Miami--bone-in ribeye medium rare with cheesy, creamy potatoes and Macallan 21 from Council Oak; cheeseburger with french fries and Diet Pepsi from Casola's. Now I could write you a paragraph about where the food was sourced from, and I could tell you the fries are fried in organic oil. I could tell you the steak comes from a small farm not 10 miles from the restauraunt and I could tell you the scotch was aged for 21 years (21!). But I don't have to because when you look at those pictures the only thought your brain can put together is "Sweet Baby Jesus, that looks...DELICIOUS." If that beautiful slice of heaven found its way to a table near you, you'd know what to do. Now if on the other hand you were faced with some strange mixture of wild grains and weeds, or "vegan snacks," you would want, no you would NEED a full adjective ladden paragraph before you even considered letting it near your mouth, and you would certainly need the explicit promise of some kind of health benefit before you'd even consider investing in a bite.

I say all of this to give you an idea where I stand on the issue of veganism, lest you be confused by my presence here. I am firmly of the mind set that "I didn't climb all the way up the food chain to eat leaves."

Now frankly I don't have a good reason for why I agreed to do this. I attribute it to whatever genetic defect it is that makes me prone to random road trips, bad ideas, and a general inclination to say "sure, why not" when faced with a unique proposition. I am also so far behind a healthy lifetime level of vegetable intake that this really can't hurt. Plus it will give me a conversation topic while waiting for coffee in the village. Most importantly though, what the hell anyway, "why not."