The Vegetarian and the Carnivore

I prefer vegetables, Jordan likes meat. Although he enthusiastically cooked for me while trying to win my affections, he quickly tired of my pescatarian preferences. He started worrying that if he didn’t eat lots of meat immediately, it might disappear from the planet.

Then he got grouchy.

Sometimes he stares off into space and pictures me sinking my teeth into a bloody steak.

Although I haven’t eaten red meat in more than 15 years, I’m not one of those high and mighty vegetarians that looks down on other people for doing so. I don’t protest animal cruelty (although I don’t condone it either), and I don’t get offended when it’s cooked in my kitchen.

I simply don’t like the taste of it.

But, I do believe in catching and growing your own food and am highly impressed with people who do. There was one time I ate, and actually enjoyed (gasp!), red meat. I was camping in Yellowstone with someone who had elk meat—killed, prepped, and cooked with their very own hands.

Along the same lines, the best fish I ever ate was caught on a canoeing trip in the Boundary Waters and cooked the very same day.

So, I am all for tasting meat that has been killed, cleaned, and cooked by no more than one person. And where else can you find someone who does that than in Alaska?

And that is how these pictures came to be. Here, you will find me eating caribou and Jordan experiencing one of the happiest moments of his life.

Anticipation