I sniffled between bites of my expensive Hungarian room service hot dog — or more correctly kolbász — the taste of tears blending with the sharpness of smoky, garlicky pork. In my defense, a wicked ear infection made it hard to stomach anything, but my passion for animal rights made it even more tragic for my ten-year-old self to give up on my second major stint of vegetarianism. The laughter of my family did nothing to better this situation, nor did their disingenuously encouraging statements such as, “Come on Avery, this is the meat alternative of your people!”
This first stint (equally as dramatic), was five years prior when I stole the show at my Nagyapa’s (Hungarian for grandfather) seventy-fifth birthday celebration. After learning that meat comes from baby cows and adorable piglets, I decided to swear it off completely. Immediately, this decision became difficult, as I was, as proclaimed by my mother, a “self-made salami whore.”
My food groups were suddenly reduced to pasta, raw vegetables, and candy — but the pasta disappeared as soon as my Uncle Mike told me that pasta came from the “macaroni pony,” much to the dismay of my parents.
So, as mentioned, Hungary 2015 wasn’t the first time I had wept eating a room service hotdog. This first time, sprawled across the bed in my grandparents’ suite at the St. Regis Hotel, after learning not even macaroni was apparently safe from animal cruelty, I sobbed. Ten dollar hotdog in hand. My parents bought it out of frustration, explaining that I couldn’t give up eating, and would either have to accept alternative vegetarian products, or suck it up and eat a real hotdog.
Clearly, I chose the latter. I shielded myself away from my family, weeping as I nibbled on the hotdog. After that, I resigned as a vegetarian and ate meat peacefully until fifth grade, when my best friend Olivia made it clear I was wrong to believe my family only bought our meat from a very special butcher shop where the animals all died peacefully of natural causes (thanks mom and dad).
Your only takeaway from this might be that I’ve been both disturbingly sheltered and spoiled, but also simultaneously tormented (I’ll leave it to you to make the call). But to the defense of my family, I dug my own grave with a spade made of sensitivity and a shovel made of passion.
I returned to eating meat like a normal person, until being introduced to UCSB’s finest — the De La Guerra dining hall. A piece of chicken from DLG can most accurately be described as something that is good from afar, but far from good. In my eyes, most of their animal products were either gray, questionably gristly, or capable of harming the human body upon consumption.
For the third time in my life, I ceased to eat meat, but for the first time, it stuck. This new school year, while learning to cook on my own, I opted towards plant-based alternatives. My rejection of meat my freshman year has since left me disinterested in it, and I now find myself buying tofu, Impossible Foods, and Beyond Meat.
My new preference is not only supported by this lingering disinterest, but also the wonderful discovery that if I am to mess up and undercook my food, I am less likely to die, due to the fact I am not actually cooking meat. If you’re also an awful cook, I encourage you to consider this hack.
Anyways, while scrolling through my TikTok For You Page a week ago, a video caught my eye. This video, posted by a creator named Angelina (@angelinanicollle), started with her recounting a video she had seen, of a woman saying that her, “take” is that men’s view on tofu directly reflects their views on women.
Angelina goes on to say that, “men have the idea that if they eat a lot of soy or tofu, their estrogen will get really high,” but that studies had debunked this.
The only time it was proved true was during a study of a man who drank 1.2 liters of soy milk a day, and it raised his estrogen. She compares this fear of estrogen to men’s ideals of masculinity, which often include meat, citing how the carnivore diet, which is filled with steak and burgers, is often perceived as the pinnacle of said masculinity.
The video in which Angelina received her inspiration dismantles this idea further. The TikTok in question, posted by @yusuf.mov, features an interview of a young woman named Olivia, being asked what her, “take is.” Olivia’s take, as explained by Angelina, is that tofu and Alternative meat reflects men’s view on women.
Olivia explained that as the idea of the “male breadwinner” decreases in importance, men’s masculinity is more fragile than ever. She says that when men respond with “intense disgust” to tofu, it is symbolic of their “fear of their place in society,” although they may not consciously know it.
This relates to one of Angelina’s points, where she says vegetarianism and veganism is often associated with being feminine. So, if men are insecure about their societal status, it makes sense that they may shy away from things they perceive to be “feminine,” or even “anti-masculine.”
As Angelina and Olivia’s takes reached TikTok’s “For You” Page, many more had things to say. Creator @jerryxzeng put in his two cents, and made a video referencing a study by sociologist Raewyn Connell, who described masculinity as something that must be “constantly proven especially to other men.” He also explains that “the patriarchy measures masculinity by its distance from femininity,” and that things like the term “soy boy” revolves around femininity being the target of the insult.”
Zeng’s video ends with the point that “masculinity is built on the fear of being feminine.” As I absorbed this information, I realized I may have already known more of this than I’d thought. I thought back to a few days ago, to when I was cooking Impossible beef on my stovetop.
Our neighbors had just struggled into my kitchen through our virtually unopenable screen door. One of them remarked on my dinner, and although yes, I can’t say it looked most appetizing while in the process of being cooked, I didn’t necessarily need to be told, “I would never eat that.” I brushed it off at the moment, but knowing what I know now, I’m thinking a little harder about that interaction.
A friend of mine told me she had a similar experience with her neighbors, (a group of guys, just like mine), in which her tofu consumption was unfortunately ridiculed. In another instance, I had heard about someone saying he would never want a “vegan wife.”
I then thought back even further, to all of the atrocities I had seen last year at DLG. My all time favorite would be the boy who brought his food scale to the dining hall, meticulously stacking a plate full of beef (and only beef) before weighing it.
I realized that this “meat-centered insecurity” is all around, even if it takes a while to realize. However, I don’t mean to leave my own flaws out of this narrative. I too have fallen victim to this femininity-masculinity spectrum issue.
I remember a few years ago, in the early days of my relationship, I just about refused to eat anything “meat-heavy” around my boyfriend — that is, beyond a slice of pepperoni pizza. It’s not at all that he shamed me, but clearly, I worried about being seen doing anything too “masculine.” Since I too clearly associated meat consumption with masculinity, I shied away.
I don’t quite know how we can unchain ourselves from the gender-based issue of meat-centered hate, but maybe simply talking about it can be the first step towards change.