Friday, April 25, 2014

U is for Uruguay or My Fall From Grace


 
While visiting Buenos Aires, I took a ferry over to Colonia, Uruguay.  I stayed in the quaint little town for the evening, strolling the cobbled streets and people watching. The next day, I took a bus to Montevideo, the capital.  I stayed two days there.  I went to a few museums, laid on the beach and ate a steak.  Not just any steak.  The first steak I’d eaten in over 16 years. And a steak I’ve told no one about, until just now.

Uruguay is possibly even more famous than Argentina for its amazing beef.  I’d heard so much about it from fellow travelers and locals alike that it was nearly impossible for me not to eat one.  Though, being a vegetarian since I was 10 years old presented a giant moral dilemma.  However, being alone in a foreign country presented a very viable option to said dilemma.  One I’d never considered till walking the streets in Uruguay and passing restaurant after restaurant advertising the most beautiful looking steaks I’d even seen. 

I rationalized; I’d not eaten meat for over 16 years. I’d done my duty. One little steak won’t hurt. No one will know.  It looks so good. And, with that, I found a renowned steakhouse from my guidebook and took a seat.  When the waitress came round she asked for my order. I said the steak. She asked how I’d like it cooked. I had no idea? The last time I ordered a steak, I’m pretty sure my mom was still cutting my meat.

When my dinner arrived, I was anxious and excited. I took knife and fork (in the wrong hands apparently, remember, I’d never cut my own meat before) and began to dig in. It was marvelous, everything I remembered and much, much more.  It was made even more special because of the secret I was keeping.  Forbidden things always taste better.

I’ve been eating meat now for about three years, after 24 years of being a vegetarian, with the exception of one sunny day in Uruguay where I ate the most delicious steak I’ve ever had.   I’ve told people my gateway meat was the deer and elk my ex boyfriend would bow hunt, but perhaps it was that steak in Uruguay so many years earlier.

2 comments:

  1. Gateway meat? So I go to Australia for their licorice and fall off the wagon? Now every where we go I'll be afraid to try something I haven't had in years, for whatever reason. I guess to reduce the perils of travel I need to indulge in all facets of food/drink/obsessions full time to reduce the risk of falling off the wagon and injuring myself in a foreign country.

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  2. LOL- No injuries here... just a simple fall from grace, I long time in the works. Licorice huh? who knew?

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