I know you know who I'm talking about and if you don't that's because it's probably you. And if it is you, let me just let you know that I think it's lovely that you treat your temple lovingly by nourishing it with quinoa, miso soup, and beans that are only grown during the last fifteen minutes of the winter solstice. But what's not so admirable is your Farrakhan-like obsession with reminding people every few hours that you don't eat pork. Unless your mere utterance of this single phrase causes somebody somewhere to read "How to Eat to Live" and join your Swine Hating Brigade, I'm not understanding the necessity of mentioning this.
Traditionally, Black people enjoy pork, as evidenced by classic soul food cuisine impressively consisting of pork products in both solid and liquid form (if we could get it in gas form, I know we would). But the acceptance of pork as a regular part of our diet shifted, once influence of Muslim culture on the Black community came into place, causing some of us to put down the bacon and let everyone and their mama know about the event.
I think it's okay to follow dietary restrictions based on religious/ dietary beliefs. After all, both Christian and Muslim doctrine advise against the ingestion of Porky. And though the reasons behind this are debatable (moral vs. economic), the decisions you make are yours and yours alone. But your decision to not eat pork (and bonus: red meat) is not a conversation starter nor light-hearted dinner conversation. "You know I don't eat pork" is a mantra used to make you feel better about yourself since you still don't have enough will-power to go completely vegetarian (chicken and fish count, love) but need to feel better than your family who still grubs on hog maws (I really don't even know what this is).
Now hush up and eat your plateful of Aunt Cynthia's greens that you KNOW ain't just seasoned with "Lawry's".
No comments:
Post a Comment