To a lot of people (myself included), Thanksgiving has a very big connection to food, more specifically a big, extravagant meal to be shared with family and friends. Several paragraphs could spew forth from me on the subject of food and Thanksgiving meals. I could write about the virtues of frying your turkey instead of baking it. I could explain to you that just because it’s Thanksgiving, it doesn’t mean I suddenly have to accept pumpkin pie as a real dessert. I could debate which is better: fresh cranberry sauce or the gelatinous cylinder out of the can. Instead, I’m going to turn all my power for hate on tofurkey.
If you don’t know, tofurkey is fake turkey. It’s made from tofu and other horrible things and is fashioned to look like meat. Soybeans are playing the part of turkey in the same way that Jackie Mason played Rodney Dangerfield in Caddyshack 2. That is to say, poorly. Simply put, tofurkey is a lie.
Why would soybeans lie to you? Or better yet, why would they lie to you on the greatest food holiday of the year? The answer. Tofurkey is what vegans use to feel normal on Thanksgiving. “Hey, we eat turkey, too. Though, we’re better than you because our turkey is made from beans.”
In case you don’t know, vegans aren’t normal. Humans eat flesh, and deciding you have a better idea than the result of thousands and thousands of years of evolution? Well, it’s at the very least not normal. Some may say crazy. I can be in that segment of the populace from time to time, usually when someone is chastising me for my carnivorous ways.
Vegans will tell you about how much healthier tofu is than meat. They’ll even have some scientific sounding stuff to say along with it. You might even get a pamphlet printed on recycled paper. I just don’t feel like I can believe it. If eating vegan is so healthy, why do most vegans look like they’re dying? Do you see the girl with the dark sunken eyes getting blown down the street in the wind like a discarded plastic grocery bag? Probably a vegan. Or a model. Maybe both.
Vegans can do whatever crazy thing they want. PETA can continue to march half-naked (or sometimes full-naked) girls out on the sidewalks to stop the “murder” of animals for the good of humankind. I’m pretty okay with that. It doesn’t work, but it sure can be fun to watch them try. I just want them to leave me and my holiday alone.
No one’s making caracon or baccoli. (Two things I just invented in my head: bacon pressed into the shape of carrots or broccoli.) I’m not trying to trick you into eating meat. I don’t label the real turkeys as “Smart Turkey” implying that by eating the fake ones you are stupid. Sure, I’m thinking it, but I’m keeping it to myself. You see how much nicer that is for everyone involved?
When I sit down to enjoy Thanksgiving dinner this week, I’ll be thankful for the food and everyone who contributed to making the meal enjoyable with their contributions and presence. I will also be thankful that my turkey is real and not a soybean Ashton Kutcher.