I hope you won’t mind if I don’t even try to come up with a clever title for this one

“What do Plato, Leonardo da Vinci, Saint Catherine of Siena, and Frankenstein’s monster have in common with Paul McCartney, Paris Hilton, and Jonathan Safran Foer? You guessed it – vegetarianism!”

“That’s got to be the worst, most awkward introduction to a cookbook I’ve ever read,” I said.

“Yeah,” my wife nodded as she fed our daughter. “Plus, they left out Hitler.”

Yes, Hitler was a vegetarian. Like many of us, I know this because non-vegetarians keep pointing it out. And they’re right to do it, I guess, because vegetarianism is really just a stepping stone to power-mad, amphetamine-fueled totalitarian genocide.

“But that’s a really long list of people,” my wife insisted. “Too long not to include Hitler. He’s conspicuously absent from that list.”

“I know,” I said.

“Frankenstein’s monster wasn’t even real,” she added.

“I know,” I said.

“Aw!” my wife exclaimed. “Look how much she likes the chicken!”

“I know!” I said.

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