When I decided to switch to a plant-based diet in 2007, it was an understatement to say that my parents and I were at odds. I wasn't just cutting out a food group from my diet, but a significant aspect of my cultural identity.
My earliest memories of food are of family barbecues. My late father grew up on a cattle ranch in Uruguay, where there are three times as many cows as people. It's one of the world's top consumers of beef per capita; Uruguayans eat an average of 200 pounds of meat a year.
I have an early memory at the butcher where my abuela placed two massive cow tongues - one in each of my hands - and asked me which one felt heavier. The tongue was for an asado, a cultural tradition started by gauchos of grilling meat on a parrilla.
Asados were replaced with sprawling KC-style cookouts. My maternal family is large, so when we go out to eat, there's usually more than 20 of us. For as long as I can remember, we've been loyal to Arthur Bryant's, a BBQ spot in downtown Kansas City.
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