The failed vegetarian

Sorry I didn't warn you all but I was in Spain for the last week on my first ever press junket. For the uninitiated, a junket is a free holiday for members of the media provided by a tour operator or tourism board seeking publicity for that particular holiday destination. If you think it sounds like a bribe, you're not far off.

Anyways, I left on Tuesday morning with only one day left to go in my week-long vegetarian crusade. I was planning on having a big dirty beef burger with a side of pork chops drizzled in bacon fat for breakfast the next morning but until that time, I would be sticking steadfastly to my vegetarian guns.

But those bloody Spaniards had other plans and within a few hours of landing, I had blood on my hands. Beautiful, juicy, blood that had been squeezed from the inside of the tastiest steak ever known to my belly.

I know, I know, I'm a failure with as much self control as a puppy humping a letterbox but you should have seen the temptations I was faced with. The first meal served up to us had twelve courses. Twelve!

Not one of them were meat or fish free and they were all the kind of delicious that can make a man do strange and unreasonable things. Once I'd broken the seal, I figured I may as well be in for a penny as a pound and proceeded to eat a petting zoo-worth of meat.

I avoided my veg sponsor, Miriam, for a couple of days after my premature return to the carnivore pack but eventually had to tell her of my capitulation. She now says I'm going to have to take on the veg challenge again but this time for two weeks instead of one. I told her not to hold her breath.

Veggie watch. Day 6

Only one day to go and although I've been genuinely surprised by how tasty some of the veg dishes were over the last week, I can't wait to sink my teeth into a big juicy burger, sending all the blood-tainted juices dripping down along my chin.

While at home on the farm the other day, I unsettled a cow by staring at her for a little too long, allowing just a hint of drool to creep out of the corner of my mouth.

Jaysus Moocow I could have a lump taken off your arse and fried up in a pan with onions before you'd even know what had happened.

The last few days have been consumed with such temptations but in fairness has also consisted of a few pleasant culinary surprises.

Miriam and Caitlin, my two dedicated veggie friends, made me up a delicious vegetable curry over the weekend, consisting of samosas, cocunuts, broccoli and a wide variety of ingredients I had never even heard of. I mean what use could I ever have made of lentils in the past?

The greatest temptation of Hoge came on Saturday evening however. After celebrating the greatest day in Irish sport with wreckless abandon, I found myself in front of that lovely new kebab shop in Baker Place, conveniently located next to the Wicked Chicken.

Like I had done with the cow a few days previously, I made the kebab shop workers feel very uncomfortable indeed as I stood, as if in a trance, staring at that sexy rotating lump of greasy lamb, thinking about all the things I'd like to do to it.

Thankfully though, I renewed my devotion to temperance and decided on five bags of garlic mushrooms instead, but not before promising the lump of lamb I'd be back next week to make its acquaintance.

Veggie watch. Day 2

THIRTY seven hours without meat and counting.

Took another brave new step last night by making and eating my first ever vegetarian meal in the form of spinach lasagne.

I have to admit that as I went about making the dish using the recipe provided to be by Miriam, I felt a little intimidated.

Not just because I hadn't tasted half of the ingredients before but because my housemates - as keen a troop of carnivores as you could find - had copped to what I was doing and were asking if I was going to get a bikini wax and manicure after I'd finished my vegetarian dinner.

With no small amount of trepidation, I shoved the lasagne into the oven with the full belief that from there it would be going straight to the bin after I risked one taste.

Surprisingly though, it wasn't too bad. Obviously anyone who tries to convince you that spinach lasagne isn't the ugly sister to the meaty option needs locking up, but at the same time it wasn't the vomit-fest I had expected.

On a side note, Mapstew warned me a few days back that switching to a veg-only diet would result in my becoming even more gaseous than usual. You were on the money my friend. Expect scientists to find another hole in the ozone layer by the time this week is out.

Which brings me to another point. Vegetarians tend to be hug-the-earth, recycle-your-toiletpaper, environMENTALly-minded sorts but surely they realise that by maintaining such a diet, they are doing more harm than good to the atmosphere around them?

Not only are they letting off an above average level of gases from their own tank, but by not eating all those farting cows they are allowing even more toxic emissions to be released. Silly hippies.

Veggie watch. Day 1

Just had the first ever salad roll of my life. Not quite the emasculating experience I thought it would be. No female genitalia growth just yet.

At the same time, there was an undeniable sense of dissatisfaction and unfulfilment. A 'Godfather; Part 3' of a lunch if you will.

Where was the core, the heart, the kernel of the meal? It was the Stones without Jagger, the Beatles without Lennon, Take That without Robbie (you know they've never been the same since).

I've printed off an email full of recipes featuring such delights as Spinach and Rice Pie and Organic Lentil Stew, both of which I'm pretty sure were used to extort confessions from terror suspects in Guantanamo Bay.

If I survive the night, I'll let you know how at least one of these dishes go down. In the meantime here's some vegetable humour, courtesy of Al.

Vegetarians, lend me your ears

I've made a most unlikely decision to join the ranks of a group that count Michael Bolton, Pauly Shore, Chris Martin and that ol' hound, Adolf Hitler, amongst their members. That's right, I'm going to give vegetarianism a lash.

This isn't a decision I've come to lightly and it's not something I'll be jumping into straight away as I intend on gettting some of your advice beforehand.

From the outset, I should say that each and every one of my wits had deserted me when I agreed to this particular challenge, but a committment was apparently given and if I can't keep a drunken promise, then what do I really stand for?

Long time meat-hater Miriam is the one to blame for me deciding to learn the way of the vegetable but thankfully she only managed to convince me to try it out for a week. In return for my taking this on, she has agreed to provide me with a few apparently delicious veggie meals and snacks so as to ensure I don't die of malnutrition during the week.

I reckon I'll start off this particular challenge around Wednesday or so. The desire for a kebab will be too great tomorrow night after I finish celebrating the birthday of St Patrick.

In the meantime though, I'm open to suggestions from vegetarians, vegans and all the palatally-challenged out there on how to get through my weekus horribilis.