Disclaimer: I did not intend to take a 2-month sabbatical from the blog. However, after doing a bunch of reading about the origin of our food and factory farms and all that, I am currently on a sabbatical from meat, which makes this post from a while back a tad ironic. Enjoy, though.
To my vegetarian readers: it’s been real. I completely understand if you can’t stick around because of your personal convictions over this post.
To the rest of you: I’ve never considered myself to be overly carnivorous. Yes, I eat meat on occasion but I never buy it or cook it myself. Ask any of my roommates, current or former: I live on Kashi and Rice Dream. Which is why it’s so strange that of late all I can think about is…Beef Jerky.
Oh mylanta. Past chocolate cravings that I thought were intense are nothing compared to this newest obsession. I’ve been having to tell my friends about it to account for my car’s peculiar smoke-house scent and the various half-eaten bags of Jack’s Links littering the floor. They laugh me out of town. And then find themselves suffering from the very same cravings hours later.
I won’t be surprised in the least if one of these nights I find myself dancing with life-size, stringy pieces of meat in my dreams, riding a carousel with my new Oh Boy! Oberto BFFs, weaving daisy chains and laughing uproariously with a fine looking hunk…of beef.
I now keep dental floss in my glove compartment in case I’m suddenly struck with a craving while on the road. Is it an expensive habit? Shoot, yeah. I’ve tried switching to turkey jerky and the more exotic beef-and-ostrich variety as an attempt to go cheaper and healthier, but there is no substitute. A girl’s gotta have her 100% beef.
Teriyaki flavor is rather repulsive to me, and the peppered variety, although tasty, still doesn’t hold a candle to the good old original.
Am I iron deficient? Perhaps. Am I going through a rapid growth spurt at the age of 21 years, 11 months and my body is desperate for protein? Not likely. Will I one day run my own cattle ranch and smokehouse in the middle of Montana so I will never find my cupboards devoid of my favorite snack? It’s becoming more and more possible with each passing day.
So what does this mean for the blog, you ask? Will I completely cut out other topics and devote it to my findings as a budding beef jerky connoisseur? Will I pawn my beloved Jorge in order to support my habit? Will my pitiful photography skills become even more pitiful when I begin posting pictures of me and beef jerky at the bank drive through, me and beef jerky at the movies, me and beef jerky at DollyWood Splash Country?
Time will tell, readers. Time will tell. For now, thank you for allowing me write 467 words on this ridiculous topic. And now that it is nearing the hour of my evening meal I can say with confidence, beef jerky: it’s what’s for dinner.