It's Alive!!... and high in antioxidants

The debate between vegetarians and those that choose to enjoy life's varied pleasures is one I remain neutral on. Both sides have their strong points: a juicy burger smothered in cheese, topped with a fried egg, and set between a toasted bun is one of the purest joys of summertime backyard gastronomy; meanwhile, green beans are not, as previously hypothesized, poisoned food-darts. So I understand how each community feels loyal to their cause. But I've just come across a new product at the local supermarket which might just put a dent into Anti-Meat arguments across the globe...

Many friends have told me, "I can't eat something if I know it was alive." They are referring, one assumes, to steak (cows) or bacon (pigs) or buffalo wings (chicken) or hot dogs (D: All of the Above) or Taco Bell (E: origin remains unclear). Several well-known authors have opined on the subject. David Foster Wallace, in the title essay of his 2005 collection Consider the Lobster, asks the rational question, "Is it all right to boil a sentient creature alive just for our gustatory pleasure?" while reporting on the Maine Lobster Festival. (Answer: It's complicated.) The good news is that the high-pitched whine coming from the emerged crustacean is not a shrill death cry, as popular myth asserts; lobsters talk through an exchange of urine suffused with pheromones, not any sort of vocal box, which is both comforting and unsettling, while also giving one possible explanation for why my roommate always pees with the door open. The bad news is that lobster is way overrated, tasting like molded erasure rubbings dunked in butter. But Legal Seafood's Lobster Bisque is delicious. As you can see, the debate is a fierce and complex affair.

In an article for Real Simple, author Jonathan Safran Foer gives his thoughts on his on-again/off-again vegetarianism: "[I]f a fish, a chicken, or a cow has a consciousness that in any way resembles George's [his dog]...to so much as harm it, much less kill it for food, would be the ultimate act of barbarism." And yet he eats fish on days he craves something other than soybeans, and he cooks lampchops for George. Again, there seems to be no definitive answer other than this: Meat tastes good.

Perhaps French philosophy can aid our quest for understanding? Roland Barthes, in his piece "Steak and Chips" from the collection Mythologies, muses on the titular beef: "One can well imagine the ambrosia of the Ancients as this kind of heavy substance which dwindles under one's teeth in such a way as to make one keenly aware at the same time of its original strength and of its aptitude to flow into the very blood of man." Roland. You're not helping.

So when I discovered this particular item in the supermarket aisle, I thought: Here is evidence to combat those who would paint my burger-holding hands red. Next to bags of iceberg and coleslaw, I found a collection of strange, plastic-encased bunches of lettuce. I drew nearer. The label proclaimed: LIVING Lettuce. I picked up one of the orbs, looking very much like a 50's-style astronaut helmet, or the protagonist's in 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.

Underneath the crisp leaves was a close bundle of roots, still attached to the leafy greens. The back of the package explains: "Tanimura & Antle Living Lettuce is hydroponically grown using regenerative farming practices helping to protect & sustain our environment."
Which sounds great, but merely obfuscates the truth. They package and sell lettuce... that is alive! Instructions on the inside label even suggest prolonging the poor vegetable's suffering: "Use only what you need for each serving, keeping the roots intact." Suddenly it all comes clear. Vegetarians have reacted so strongly against our carnivorous ways not out of animal pity, but out of fearful self-delusion. For every 1/15th of a cow we burger-eaters have killed, our herbivorous brethren have murdered entire villages of corn just for a Southwestern Salad.

As I ponder this new reality, waves of revelation sweep over me: Why are they called heads of lettuce? What exactly is the origin behind Artichoke hearts? Sweet merciful gravy. All this time I've felt bad about those factories filled with cage-enclosed hens pumping out my omelettes. Now, I've stumbled upon what might be a 21st century Shroud of Turin. Finally, evidence of vegetable's capacity for feeling. Here is Lettuce and it is Living. And so brazenly marketed as such, right on the package! Then I noticed the price tag: A very reasonable $2.89. Suffice to say, my ladyfriend companion and I enjoyed this lettuce's last days alongside a nice tomato-and-mozzarella stuffed gnocchi and thick-sliced garlic bread.