The inside of my head has, over the last month or so, resembled a mixture of stereotypical 50’s housewife and river crossing puzzle. That’s because of a problem which has swept aside every other issue – what’s for dinner?

You see, I’m living with a vegetarian next year. And that’s fine. No, really – if I had half of her willpower, I’d be one too, but I haven’t quite found the strength to resist the allure of bacon. The problem is that I’m also living with a carnivore. Not just someone who eats meat, but someone who absolutely loves it. 

When I say that he loves it, I don’t mean that he enjoys it every now and then as a treat. No, he loves it in the sense that he’s unlikely to sit down of his own free will to any meal that wasn’t moving a few hours ago. So, needless to say, compromise is difficult. Worse, with a good 80% of my student loan being taken up with rent, each of us cooking separate meals isn’t really an option. 

With that in mind, we decided to pool our money and cook for each other. I admit that this probably shouldn’t be the foremost issue on my mind – ostensibly bigger problems we face include “I don’t have any bedding” and “Most of the lights don’t have lightbulbs”. But bear with me while I try and explain why this supposed non-issue has consumed a good 70% of my conscious thoughts, along with several extremely boring dreams.

Some recipes are easy. Things like risotto can be made without too many tantrums because meat can just be stirred into half at the end. These kinds of recipes make me feel like some sort of culinary alchemist, except I’m prospecting more for a muffled grunt of approval than gold. 

But others are much harder to make vegetarian, and it’s here that the ‘breakdown’ part of this article comes into play. Ideally both the veggie and the carnivore would enjoy every meal, but the list of recipes where that seems possible is vanishingly small. And so, I’m presented with a choice. Do we embark on a never-ending rotation of the same handful of easy-to-make meals? Or am I to spend evenings lurching from one overflowing pan to the next, cooking two meals at once? Perhaps I should admit defeat and ask for help like a responsible person. None of the above sound like me, however, and so the struggle for a better way continues.

This problem only gets worse when others stay for dinner. Is our kitchen really big enough for multiple people to cook multiple meals? Not if those people are expected to remain friends. Cooking bigger meals isn’t too hard in practice, but what if all the guests are meat eaters? Do I make like a proportional democracy and cater for the masses, leaving the veggie isolated and angry? Or do I follow the UK’s example, compromise on both sides and leave everyone miserable? 

Maybe there’s another way. Maybe my carnivorous friend will learn to love vegetables. Maybe I’ll grow an extra pair of arms and learn to cook two meals at the same time. Maybe I’ll give up and start eating grass like a cow instead. But, for now, the overthinking continues. I think I need to go and lie down.