Meat’s a luxury

A few weeks ago I was in NYC hanging out with some friends when one of them turned to me and said, “Marg, you’re livin’ po, but you’re living the dream.” I munched on my free Yale club grapes and crudite and laughed in agreement. What was there to complain about? The chocolate business was going well (still is), I was sitting with some of my best friends, and I was eating free food. Well, it was only kind of free–I had to pay for the round trip train ticket and the club guard wouldn’t let me go upstairs with shorts on. Except they weren’t just ANY pair of shorts, they were nice, velvet, and Marc. But the balding, sometimes friendly, bespectacled man who looked like he’d indulged a little too often in the pulled pork and fried zucchini 4 floors above (elevator only, of course) kindly told me to go down the street to Daffy’s to buy a dress if I wanted to be let in.


But I wanted to hang out. More importantly I was NOT about to let, “Honey, this isn’t Vogue, this is the Yale Club” stop me from getting what I wanted. So I bought the cheapest dress I could find on sale at JCrew, which, thanks to midtown offices, is everywhere, and went back $14 dollars lighter and a little more pissed off about the ridiculosity of tradition (which I think is quite amusing now).

I didn’t really think much of the episode or my current financial situation that spurred the thought, until I realized last week that I hadn’t eaten meat in about 3 weeks–I was getting my protein from whole wheat ____, quinoa, peanut butter, and almond butter (which I love so much I would lick off the floor…just kidding?). “Living po’ but living the dream” didn’t seem so fun anymore–I needed meat to survive!!!! My muscles were probably digesting themselves. Meat might be “out of my budget,” but damnit, I was buying it. The solution? A juicy roasted pork tenderloin made with a soy sauce, cinnamon, paprika, and honey marinade.

I fixed it up with some sauteed beet greens and whole wheat pasta the next day:


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