我的素食之道

No meat？ No fish？ No cheese？ No ice cream？ What if you had chickens， would you eat the eggs？ What if you were stranded on a desert island and all there was to eat was rabbits？

And so it goes， at many meals with friends， families or co-workers. These questions always come up， just as the arm connected to the inquiring mind is lifting a 1）chicken nugget to the mouth. Not the best time for an ethical discussion on the matter. I don’t intend to make anyone feel defensive or guilty or upset. I am simply living my life my way.

I first tried a change in my eating patterns in 2007， having been a vegetarian for a few years. Full of big ideas and goals， I switched to a diet free of animal products. Like many people making the switch for the first time， I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.

My mom was the recipient of 2）incessant phone calls： “What’s in shortening？” I’d ask. “Can you make cake without eggs？” I had no idea what I was looking for on food labels. What’s 3）whey powder？ What’s a“modified milk ingredient”？ What’s 4）casein？

Craving and 5）exasperation crept in. It only took a month before I was in line at the grocery store with cheese， sour cream and those eerily neon-coloured cupcakes in my basket， the grand notion of living entirely free of animal products seemingly forgotten. I chowed down happily， ignoring the tiny voice that said “Is this right for me？”

6）Fluorescent frosting covering my fingers， I told myself that it was too hard， not worth it， and it didn’t make a difference anyway.

It wasn’t until a year later that I made the firm decision about what food habits were right for me. It was a creamy 7）cashew sauce that tipped the scales， and convinced me that vegan food could be delicious.

As for the term “vegan，” I sometimes avoid the term in order to escape the stereotypes. I’m not an urban hipster， I don’t have 8）dreadlocks and I don’t stand outside fur shops with a can of spray paint at the ready.

In actuality， I grew up on a small farm in rural Alberta. I dug in the garden， rode the tractor through the hayfield and milked the goats. I also butchered chickens. I made presentations about farm life to “city kids” on field trips， showing my Grade 4 peers where milk came from， how animals were dehorned and what the difference was between a sheep and a goat.

Despite my rural roots， however， I often had a nagging feeling about the impacts of my eating habits. Once I was no longer living on the farm， I was increasingly distanced from “real” food. Food seemed to grow on a shelf， not in the ground or in the barn.

I could see why those city kids had been confused as to how milk was different from pop. Food wasn’t from the land any more. It was a product—decorated， packaged and marketed 9）beyond recognition—masking its often dubious roots in industrial factories.

It became increasingly obvious that by not making a decision， I was， in fact， implicitly making a decision.

My purchases， it felt to me， were akin to my vote， essentially saying， “Yep！ I think this is okay！” And that wasn’t the truth. I didn’t think it was okay.

But let’s be honest. Veganism is not the answer to all the world’s problems. And it does not imply ethical superiority over other thoughtful diets.

Nor is a vegan diet necessarily more healthful. It’s still possible to be a vegan and eat a diet of potato chips and cotton candy—and substituting ground flax and water for eggs makes it possible to prepare all of my family’s favourite recipes for cakes， cookies， and waffles—not necessarily the leanest diet available.

I do believe that my vegan diet， when conscious and well-planned， is more healthful and more sustainable than the way I used to eat. Whether talking about ecological footprints， moral consistency， livestock well-being， water use， or vitamin intake， I see definite improvements.

But when my 10）inquisitive dinner companions pose questions， my only answer is that we can each benefit from thinking about our food choices. Willful ignorance does not excuse moral responsibility. For most of us， eating is our main act of consumption.

Just the other day， my 12-year-old cousin was confused as to why I was wearing socks made from wool from my mom’s sheep. “I thought you didn’t like things that come from animals？” she asked， flummoxed. I had made a tradeoff in my own mind： They are treated like pets， and relieved to be rid of their warm coats every summer. I eventually replied， “Everyone has to make their own decisions about what they think is right.”

We don’t necessarily need to debate the extremes in lifestyle decisions. At the end of the day， each of us can make improvements on the margin， by being a bit more virtuous， more kind， or more aware of the impacts of our choices.

For me， thoughtful veganism is the best approach to food. Not only does it help me to actively engage in the connection between food and the land on which it’s grown， but it reminds me to be curious and ask questions about all my choices， food and otherwise. It’s been an excellent exercise in training myself to think about the seemingly distant impacts of my actions.

And， as for the desert island ... I hear palm fruit is delicious.

不吃肉？不吃魚(yú)？不吃奶酪？不吃冰激凌？要是你養(yǎng)雞，那你吃雞蛋嗎？要是你被困荒島，所有能吃的只有兔子，你怎么辦？

與朋友、親人或者同事共餐的時(shí)候，往往如是，總是冒出這些問(wèn)題，其時(shí)，好奇發(fā)問(wèn)的他/她正把一塊炸雞送到嘴里。這可不是就此來(lái)一場(chǎng)倫理討論的最佳時(shí)機(jī)。我不想讓任何人覺(jué)得需要辯解，或者有負(fù)罪感，或是惶惑不安。我只不過(guò)是遵循自己的方式過(guò)活而已。

從2007年開(kāi)始我嘗試在自己的飲食模式上作出改變，如今我堅(jiān)持素食已好幾年。出于一堆的“高見(jiàn)”和目標(biāo)，我將自己的飲食調(diào)整到不吃動(dòng)物產(chǎn)品。就像許多人剛開(kāi)始轉(zhuǎn)變飲食習(xí)慣那樣，我完全不知道自己在干什么。

我不停地給媽媽打電話：“有什么缺的？”我會(huì)問(wèn)?！皼](méi)有雞蛋，能做蛋糕嗎？”我不清楚自己要留意食物標(biāo)簽里的什么成分。乳清粉是什么？“改良牛奶成分”是什么？干酪素是什么？

饞癮與惱怒漸漸襲來(lái)。只過(guò)了一個(gè)月，我就挽著個(gè)購(gòu)物籃——里面裝著奶酪、酸奶油，還有那些出奇鮮艷的霓虹色紙杯蛋糕——在雜貨店里排隊(duì)了，那個(gè)“完全不吃動(dòng)物產(chǎn)品”的偉大生活概念似乎已經(jīng)拋諸腦后。我高高興興地大快朵頤，對(duì)那個(gè)微弱的聲音聽(tīng)而不聞：“對(duì)我來(lái)說(shuō)，這是對(duì)的嗎？”

熒光糖霜蓋住我的手指，我跟自己說(shuō)，這太難了，不值得，不管怎么說(shuō)，這不要緊的。

直至一年后，我才下定決心，確定適合自己的飲食習(xí)慣。那時(shí)一種粘稠的腰果醬起了關(guān)鍵性作用，讓我信服原來(lái)素食也可以是美味可口的。

至于“素食者”一詞，有時(shí)為了不落俗套，我會(huì)避開(kāi)這個(gè)詞。我不是個(gè)城里的嬉皮士，我沒(méi)有臟辮雷鬼頭，我也不會(huì)拿著一罐噴漆站在皮草店外隨時(shí)待命。

事實(shí)上，我在阿爾伯塔鄉(xiāng)下的一個(gè)小農(nóng)場(chǎng)長(zhǎng)大。我曾在花園里挖土，開(kāi)著拖拉機(jī)駛過(guò)干草地，還給羊擠過(guò)奶。我還宰過(guò)雞。我在實(shí)地考察旅行中向“城里娃們”做過(guò)關(guān)于農(nóng)場(chǎng)生活的演示，向我四年級(jí)的同伴展示過(guò)牛奶從何而來(lái)，如何給動(dòng)物剪角，怎樣辨別綿羊和山羊。

盡管我來(lái)自鄉(xiāng)間，但我對(duì)自己的飲食習(xí)慣所造成的影響常常感到不安。一旦我不再住在農(nóng)場(chǎng)里，我便與“真正的”食物越來(lái)越疏遠(yuǎn)起來(lái)。食物看起來(lái)是長(zhǎng)在架子上的，而不是在地里或是在谷倉(cāng)里。

我明白為何那些城里孩子一直搞不懂牛奶與汽水的區(qū)別。食物已經(jīng)不再來(lái)自土地了。食物是一種產(chǎn)品——經(jīng)過(guò)面目全非的裝飾、包裝、營(yíng)銷——原本的不明來(lái)路在工業(yè)化生產(chǎn)的工廠里被改頭換面。

慢慢地，越發(fā)明顯，我沒(méi)有做出決定，但其實(shí)卻是在暗中做著決定。

感覺(jué)上，買(mǎi)東西的同時(shí)，我是以行動(dòng)來(lái)投票，基本上就是說(shuō)：“對(duì)哩！我覺(jué)得這沒(méi)問(wèn)題。”但那不是真的。我覺(jué)得有問(wèn)題。

坦白說(shuō)吧，素食主義并非解決這世上所有問(wèn)題的方法。也并不意味著素食主義比其他經(jīng)過(guò)深思的飲食習(xí)慣更道德。

素食的飲食習(xí)慣也不一定更加健康。作為一名素食者，也可能會(huì)吃薯片和棉花糖——并且以亞麻籽和水取代雞蛋，能做出家人最愛(ài)的蛋糕、曲奇和華夫餅——這些并不一定是最佳的瘦身飲食。

我確實(shí)相信我的素食習(xí)慣，在經(jīng)過(guò)有意識(shí)的認(rèn)真計(jì)劃后，較之以前的飲食習(xí)慣更加有益健康、更具可持續(xù)性。無(wú)論說(shuō)的是生態(tài)足跡、道德一致性、禽畜福利、水消耗或是維生素?cái)z取，我都看到了一定的進(jìn)步。

但當(dāng)我那些好奇的餐伴提出問(wèn)題時(shí)，我唯一的答案是，我們每個(gè)人都可以通過(guò)思考自己的食物選擇而有所獲益。任性無(wú)視不能作為借口躲避道德責(zé)任。對(duì)我們大部分人來(lái)說(shuō)，進(jìn)食是我們消費(fèi)環(huán)境資源的主要方式。

就在幾天前，我那12歲的表妹對(duì)我所穿的襪子心存疑惑，這襪子是用我母親的羊所產(chǎn)的羊毛做成的?！拔疫€以為你不喜歡來(lái)自動(dòng)物的東西？”她問(wèn)道，惶惑不解。在我的心中有一種權(quán)衡之道：它們就像寵物那樣受到對(duì)待，對(duì)于每年夏天可以脫下那暖和的大衣，它們輕松不已。我最后回答說(shuō)：“每個(gè)人都得按照自己心中的對(duì)錯(cuò)尺子做出抉擇?！?/p>

我們不必就生活方式的抉擇執(zhí)極而論辯。最終，只要多一分善、多一分友好，或?qū)ψ约旱倪x擇所造成的影響多一分關(guān)注，我們每個(gè)人的生活都可以有所提升。

對(duì)我來(lái)說(shuō)，經(jīng)過(guò)深思的素食主義是對(duì)待食物的最佳方法。那不但有助于我更積極地探討食物與其生長(zhǎng)的土地上的關(guān)系，而且提醒我，對(duì)自己所有的選擇、食物和其他方面要抱有好奇心，提出疑問(wèn)。對(duì)于訓(xùn)練自己思考那些看起來(lái)遙遠(yuǎn)、因我的行為而產(chǎn)生的影響，這一個(gè)極佳的鍛煉方法。

而至于荒島……我聽(tīng)說(shuō)棕櫚果的味道還不錯(cuò)呢。