I’ve long grappled with the idea of being a meat-eater.

It started when I was eight or nine. I think it was my spring break. We were having lunch while on the road in Nebraska, headed out east somewhere (as always), and one of the menu items caught my eye. Buffalo burger, it read. Eight ounces of buffalo meat grilled to your preference with swiss cheese, mushrooms, onions, and bacon. Or something like that.

“Buffalo burger?” I asked my dad. Why on earth would one name a burger after a city in New York? (Seriously.)

“Yeah,” he said. “Made out of buffalo.”

I was flabbergasted. Made out of buffalo? Like Ralphie?

“Like Ralphie,” my dad said.

If you aren’t from Colorado, chances are you don’t necessarily know about Ralphie, the University of Colorado mascot that is, yes, a live buffalo that gets bustled along the perimeter of Folsom Field before CU football home games. She has handlers who are student athletes (you bet it takes an athletic program to handle her), and when she has seen enough days on the football field, she is retired to a ranch somewhere in the Rocky Mountains to graze to her heart’s content. You could say I’m rather fond of Ralphie — she was the first thing I knew about the school that would one day become my alma mater.

Yeah, you try telling a fourth-grader that she’s eating a Ralphie burger.

Over the years, I became more and more resistant to the idea of meat on the dinner table. I’ve never been a big fan of ham; in fact my family still makes fun of me for being absolutely insolent at the idea of having a Christmas ham. As a teenager, besides being weight-conscious, I ordered salads when we went out, or at the very least, avoided getting a burger (who knows if it could’ve been a Ralphie burger?). And I usually picked at my serving of the Thanksgiving turkey, woefully unsatisfied that the only way it tasted decent to me was if it was slathered with gravy.

And I’ll be honest: I’m just not that into bacon. (Save your mud-slinging for someone else — it’s useless on me!)

On the other hand, I’ve also been raised in two rather meat-loving cultures. My mother is Filipina, and I’ve seen more than my fair share of lechon (roast pig) parties, cooked more than enough chicken adobo, and been totally excited for some kare-kare (a stew made with beef and/or oxtail). My father comes from German stock, which means that our church had krautburger sales and bratwurst for dinner was a regular occurrence.

Throughout all of this, I’m still mostly a carnivore.

Lately, the same child in me that lamented the idea of a buffalo burger has taken another look at the whole idea of eating meat. I realize that our food industry is far too powerful, that the food in our grocery stores is not necessarily ethically produced nor made in the best interest of health, and that sustainability is in question every single time I pull out my wallet to purchase meat. Things I know first-hand having been born in Greeley, Colorado — home to one of the largest meat-packing plants in the nation — have cropped up here and there in documentaries like Food, Inc. or in books like Fast Food Nation. There has rarely been a single day that has gone by in the last few months in which these issues have not plagued me as I sit down at the dinner table.

What am I, in my own capacity and as a single person responsible for my own actions, planning to contribute to the struggle? I honestly don’t know for sure. One thing that wasn’t necessarily prominent in Food, Inc., for instance, is the idea itself of strict vegetarianism; instead, the documentary promoted conscientious buying practices more than anything else. In order to adhere to that, I’d definitely have to go mostly vegetarian anyhow — the money it takes to purchase locally when it comes to meat isn’t something I have at the moment.

I can’t necessarily say if I could really pull off becoming a vegetarian. I do love my kare-kare, and In-n-Out calls my name once in a while. Plus, I’m a pretty adamant eater of eggs. If anything, I could probably stick with being pescetarian — excluding mammals and birds while keeping fish in the diet — and maybe having to deal with meat on a ‘family events only’ basis. (On that note, even eating fish comes with lots of questions of ethics; this I learned while living in Sweden, while others are seeing slivers of opposition in such forms as the Oscar-winning documentary The Cove.)

It still nags at me, though. For now? I’m avoiding meat, especially what has been packaged and sold cheaply at some big-box Vons/Food 4 Less/Albertson’s. Swearing it off? Well, hesitating. After all, going cold turkey (pun… intended?) would probably not be a good idea, anyways. There’s a lot more to becoming vegetarian than meets the eye — trust me, I’ve been doing my research — and the stepping-off point takes a bit of tip-toeing at first. What about veganism? Well, not anytime soon.

I’d be happy to hear any of your suggestions, thoughts, or experiences about delving into vegetarianism or veganism. Are you vegetarian or vegan? Why? If you aren’t either, why not?

So have at it. Tell me what you think. And I’d also be curious to hear if anyone else was utterly terrified at the idea of a buffalo burger.