The small slab of flesh from my hand falls to the ground and takes the shape of a burger. The center of the patty is a dark pink and becomes darker and browner as it expands to the edges. I put it up to my nose to smell it. I stick my tongue out to see if I can get a little taste before I bite into it, but then think better of it. Instead, I entered to be stared at with baby burgers bigger than my knuckles. Am I really going to eat a piece of meat when I haven’t in over a decade?
My vegan brain churns with objections, but the argument is the loudest: This is farmed meat, no animals were harmed. give It is. A try.
The day I went vegan was all connected. I was in my new home in Chiang Mai, Thailand, returning from a day spent at the elephant sanctuary I had just started working for. On the way home, face pressed against the window of the Toyota van that is synonymous with tours in the region, I see a truck full of pigs, their pink heads and floppy ears poking through the slats. They were being taken to slaughter.
It’s not like I didn’t know before that animals were being killed for my food, but this very real picture of the adorable faces taken on the ultimate drive to kill them was just what I needed to see. That was July 20123 and until May 20, 2023, I never had a piece of meat.
Why did I try to grow meat?
I’m still standing holding the meat, staring at the camera I set up to document this trial of Ohio’s wagyumi burger. I bring it to my mouth. Pull it away. Bring it to my mouth again. Pucker my lips like a child who refuses to open wide for food. I look back at the screen, showing my confusion, my apprehension, as I sit with my hands inches away from my face. My brain fights with my hands.
In the end, logic won out: If I can show people that this cell-cultured meat is a viable alternative, then I’ve done something good for animals and the environment. After all, many people tell me that they would go vegetarian but they don’t want to give up the taste of meat and the experience of eating it.
My hands move to my mouth as I slowly part my jaw, taking the most microscopic bite of burger I can muster. I turned it in my mouth. I let my tongue feel the texture of the ground. The taste sinks into my taste buds.
The first place I taste is the sides of my tongue — that umami flavor I always thought I understood, but never really did until this moment. Mostly because before I became a vegetarian, I wasn’t really a foodie. Since I moved into that era, I’ve eaten umami, but not in this iteration. It’s earthy, heavy, thick and completely unpleasant in my mouth. Tastes just like I remember tasting meat. And, after more than a decade of abstinence, meat is no longer part of my palette.
But, if I don’t like it, that means other people – meat eaters – hopefully will. After all, it is is Meat It’s not from an animal that’s been ground up and stuffed into a spongy burger roll and eaten dressed with all the spices. It’s “good” without being awful, which I can get behind as a vegetarian.
What is cultured meat?
Instead, Ohio wagyu, like other cell-farmed meats, comes from those very cells. Public testimony and data suggest that removing cells from animals is painful. Then, it’s made by “feeding” these cells with nutrients so they can grow in a bioreactor, eventually turning into a consumable meat product. More complex meats, such as Wagyu, are prepared via “scaffolding”. They hold muscle, fat and connective tissue together, recreating the structure of the flesh.
Ohio CEO and founder Dr. Jess Krieger is said to be a pioneer and visionary (according to the company’s website) when it comes to farmed meat. He first entered that world in 2010. A scientist, he has applied his muscle tissue engineering experience to product development for structured meats and is among the leaders.
The company’s Wagyu blends plant-based protein and fat, mixed with cultured Wagyu cells, and the results are impressive. If you’re a vegetarian like me, it’s great to have and eat meat is Meat (and therefore difficult for me to stomach). However, for meat-eaters, it is perhaps the answer to the growing problems around animal agriculture and climate change.
Currently, animal agriculture is one of the main causes of global warming. But the rapid development of farmed meat offers a glimmer of hope in a world that’s getting hotter and burning land for crops.
So, is farmed meat actually vegan?
This is where it gets a little gray. If you ask me, I’m going with “yes”. A resounding “yes.” The animal itself is not harmed, although initially cells are taken from an animal to make this product. I support this as a much more effective and cruelty-free (and death-free) alternative for those who still want to have the taste and experience of eating meat without harming or killing an animal.
I have long been outspoken about perfectionism as the Achilles’ heel of veganism and policing that makes it difficult for people to become vegan. If this product helps save an animal, I’m all for it.
Do I eat it?
No, it’s not for me. Although I went through my steak and meat phase in my late 20s, I lost any taste for them.
Do I support people who choose to eat it?
I certainly will. Change has to happen sometime, and this is a wonderful opportunity.
What is the future of meat farming?
Currently, more than 100 companies around the world are developing cell-based proteins. They run the gamut — beef, chicken, oysters and even lab-grown foie gras. It is still expensive for the general public. However, science promises cheaper price points as technology improves and demand expands over the next decade. That means the future of our food will lie in science rather than animal life.
And, that gives me hope. Even I’m fighting the urge to spit the meat out on a napkin and wash it down with an impossible burger and vegetarian wine. But, that’s a whole other topic for another time.