A non-operatic adventure

So a friend suggested I should tell this story on yelp (which I have never read nor posted on), but I thought I'd share it here first.

Those who know me know that one of my big interests (besides opera) is the local food movement. I think it started when my sister told me to read The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan, but since then I've read many more books, watched documentaries, and talked to a lot of farmers. I've quit buying meat, eggs, or dairy at the grocery story and shop instead at the farmer's market. And since I got back from Germany, I've officially gone...let's call it "organi-vegetarian." I'll eat meat, but only if it's organic, free-range, and preferably local. Otherwise I'm eating vegetarian.

The other day, I went to a restaurant in Harrisonburg near where I teach private piano and voice lessons to children (that's in addition to my two college teaching positions). I'd never eaten there before, but I only had a few minutes before my first student, and I wanted a snack to carry me through my afternoon of teaching to dinner. And this place was close and convenient.

Based on the name and the design of the sign, I figured this wasn't really my usual favorite kind of place to eat (read: hipster). I think everything on the menu was meat, fried, or both. I walked in and stared at the menu, trying to find something I would eat.

I'm pretty sure it was the owner working the counter that day. As I hesitated, he asked me, "Are you looking for anything in particular?" Still skimming the menu for vegetarian options, I replied, not wanting to come across as too pretentious (as if!), "Well...I don't eat factory farmed meat."

He looked at me as if I'd just spoken German. "I'm sorry, you don't eat...what?" I repeated myself, "Factory farmed meat. You know...I only eat organic, free-range, local meat." He looked utterly shocked, and said, in a tone of concern, "But, I mean, I have to get my meat from a reputable source! It's not like I can just go buy meat from some local farmer--the Department of Health would be all over me!"

My polite smile began to feel more like a grimace, as I tried to avoid a debate. I didn't see the point of trying to educate or persuade this man...and besides, I had to teach in five minutes. "Yes," I said, attempting to renew my polite smile, "You do have to find reputable sources. I do buy meat at the farmer's market, though."

"Wow," said the restaurateur.

I continued to look at the menu. He looked at it, too, and suggested, "Well, we have the fried apples--those are delicious--or fried pickles." "Um-hmm," said I. He added, "Out of curiosity, why do you not eat factory-farmed meat?" I replied, "Well, it's an ethical choice for me. You know, because of how the animals are treated in factory farms." He said, "Oh, I've heard that about veal!" "Yes," I replied, "It's true of beef and dairy and chicken farms, too. They keep the animals confined in their own waste and feed them food that makes them sick." He said, "Oh, no, my cousin has a poultry farm. They keep them confined, sure, in a 90 foot warehouse!" Exactly, I thought. And there are probably 20 or 30 thousands chickens in there...

"Um-hmm," I said, my attempt at a polite smile now frozen to my face. "I'll try a fried pickle and the fried apples, that sounds good." Just like they serve at the county fair.

The apples were just really sweet apple pie filling in a styrofoam cup. I couldn't finish them. But the breaded and fried pickle was actually pretty good. Next time I guess I'll try to stop at the gas station for a granola bar and organic juice. Or something...