As a proud member of The Omnivore Society (Estd. 1 Million B.C.) I like to eat both meat and vegetables (not a euphemism). I’m not one of those crazy anti-nature freaks who refuse to tear off chunks of animal flesh and wolf it down like God or God’s dad intended. A great meal for me is one that contains reasonably even portions of "stuff that was in the ground among the worms and the poo" and "stuff that was walking around contemplating existence and wondering what that man with the strange-looking buzzing thing in his hand walking towards it was doing" until very recently.
Vegetarians (no meat) or the more conservative vegans (no meat or animal by-products) or the ultra-conservatives vehs (just sprouts) are a strange and incomprehensible bunch. By omitting meat from their diets they are doing irreparable harm to their spleen and tibula (source: a doctor), defying Mother Nature and risking her penchant for a smiting hurricane, and, most importantly, punishing their tastebuds. Why? What did your tastebuds do to you?
Vegetables – as proved in a scientific laboratory – have only two distinct tastes to impart to a vegetable-devourer: "no taste at all" and "tastes like vegetables". The mix of these two tastes determines the overall difference between the types of vegetables. The richness of variety in meat is lost and vegetarians are worse off because of it.
Nevertheless, vegetarians are an abundant sub-species and we who would openly and rightfully mock them should first understand more about their lifestyles. For those who don’t consider vegetables a mere addition to a richer meal just what is it about the various non-meats that they find so appealing? Let’s take an in-depth look at three of the most-favoured vegetables of these odd people.
Appearance: Conical with imagination, with colours varying from dayglo orange to off-white with a hint of sundried satsuma.
Information: Wherever rabbits go there you’ll find carrots as, like flowers and bees, the two have evolved to symbiotically require one another for pollenation (for the carrots) and looking cool (for the rabbits). Chewing on grass still makes rabbits look fairly cool but not as cool as carrots. It’s probably something to do with the thickness and the colour. Ask any woman and she’ll tell you. Carrots range in size from a couple of centimetres in length up to about a metre or so. Obviously, the small ones are the baby carrots and they tend to be the more orangey as their skin has had less time to sag and wrinkle with the ravages of time. They are rarely taken from the wild and are instead mass-cultivated in carrot battery farms from artificially-inseminated (don’t ask how) adult carrots. From there they are put in tin cans with peas as much to make your dinner look colourful as anything else.
Appearance: It’s like you’re a giant and they are tiny little trees! Hello down there tiny little tree!
Information: Bonsai experts spend years – decades even – pruning and cross-breeding their miniature trees trying to get ever-smaller, more delicate forms so that they can act out Jack And The Beanstalk stories in private. And yet nature has once again beaten man – albeit strangley-fixated-on-tiny-trees-man in this case – to the punch once again with its very own treelet, the humble broccoli. Upon each miniscule broccoli branch is a diminutive broccoli bird too small to be seen without a monocle and when you eat this vegetable the birds fly off into your arteries and peck cancer into your tendons. Unless you boil it because that pretty much kills them stone dead.
Appearance: Like a spherical christmas tree decoration only not as shiny and less susceptible to smashing into a thousand pieces when it falls to the ground and you’re barefoot.
Information: Onions start off life deep underground out of reach of even the most dedicated spelunker but as Winter gives way to Spring the onion bulbs push upwards through the ground forming great red waving onion fields across the lengths and breadths of most temperate countries. The first week of April is the start of International Onion Hunting and it is then that you can catch one of the many organised onion hunts that take place; it’s quite a spectacle with the landed gentry waving on the burger vans as they speed through hedgerows and narrowly avoid orienteering cub scouts culling the onions and frying them up as they go. The smell of fried onions is a known gastronomic aphrodisiac and is used to enhance the appeal of food even when you’re not hungry. However, texturally, onions feel like foreskins in the mouth and will most likely choke you if you try to eat one.