Kitchen Poetry: The End

Sometimes it's good to be a hoarder. I am glad I didn't throw this book away during one of my more fundamental vegetarian moments because this is where I am today: In a desperate quandry.

My parents gave me this book when I left home and it was well used but I have been vegetarian for the last 10 years and I haven't deviated for all that time until recently - well .. except for the odd prawn cracker!

The thing is, I LIKE being a vegetarian but this time last year I had a debate with some vegan friends on whether or not it is possible to be vegan in the UK and only (ever) eat British food. We decided that unless we wanted to die of boredom before we died of malnutrition, then it probably isn't. Immediately we could forget mange touts from Kenya, avocados' from Peru, aubergines from Spain and that's before we've even counted chick peas, lentils, olives, chillies or rice! So in the winter, what from our own land do we eat and where does our protein come from? Turnips, cabbage, parsnips, potatoes, carrots, cauliflour, leeks ...

It wasn't until I visited Italy that I really understood what it is to live off one's land. The place where we go when visiting the Italian Connection, is a slice of rural Italy where everyone has land, livestock and a vineyard. It's normal for individuals living there to expect this way of life but here in the UK, for most of us, it's an impossible dream not least because even if we had the land, our weather couldn't support the diversity we would need to be entirely self sufficient on vegetables alone.

And so in the face of environmental catastrophe, and the world food crisis, I am now pondering the question of whether it is actually ethical to be a vegetarian in Britain. Is it right to ignore a whole source of protein while importing food from abroad which not only costs carbon miles but could also be a product of vast monocultures which are themselves unsustainable.

I became vegetarian because I did not agree with what I deemed to be unnecessary bloodshed. In a world of convenience, sterile packaging and supermarket manipulation, it's easy to forget where our food comes from, and my choice was largely a response to that apathy. But now, when it is easier to find free range, and humanely slaughtered meat, or even 'wild' meat such as rabbit, venison, pheasant, which has been free until the moment it is shot, is it not better to eat in season, from our own resources?

For the last 20 years at least, possibly longer, the most important focus of my life has been connection to this land. Now, I wonder how can I be fully connected to it if I don't eat of it? Food which has been produced here on this island, fed by our soil and watered by rain from our sky has more relevance to me than food produced in some far away country that I have never seen or known. If we connect to our land and our ancestors, the experience must be visceral, we must know where our nourishment comes from both spiritually and physically.

This is what I saw in Italy. How those people are utterly connected to the land on which they live.

And what a good life it is.

With huge and grateful thanks to Simple Sparrow for the inspiration of Kitchen Poetry.