A MAN who does not eat animal products is at the same time gripped with the heat-induced urge to grill something fatty and oozing with delectable juices.
Like a sleeper agent activated by sunlight, Joseph Turner is fighting the desire to slap raw, bloody meat onto an uncleaned pit of charcoal and watch over it with the possessiveness of a mother swan.
He said: “Normally I’m plant-based and smug about it, but once the mercury’s over 28? I feel I should be spearing a pig then roasting it with an apple in its mouth and sunglasses on.
“An hour of Saturday sunshine and I’ve forgotten my ethical principles, the notion of seasoning, all food hygiene. Nothing compared to the raw power of lording it over all your friends’ stomachs with a pair of tongs that looks like a gynaecological instrument.
“Sure, there are meat alternatives, but it’s shaming to barbecue a veggie skewer. I want to poke and prod ultra-processed slabs until they are charred, dishevelled, and still uncooked enough to kill whoever eats them, because that’s what a man does.
“I could just burn some hickory chips, couldn’t I? That’s not barbecuing. There’s no danger I’ll black out and come to in front of a ketchup-smeared paper plate and an empty ten-pack of Sainsbury’s smash burgers.”
Girlfriend Eleanor said: “It’s not easy for men. I’ve explained to him that barbecuing is actually sublimating the primal desire to get shitfaced in the garden.”
