If you were to plot a graph of those involved in the culture kerfuffle between vegetarians and carnivores (it seems both silly and overblown to refer to it as a "culture war,") and where they fall on the ideological spectrum, you're likely to find a bell curve: most people situated somewhere in the middle or not far from it, eventually tapering off to a fringe of whack-job zealots on either side. On the right, we have those who imagine a diet without animal flesh as a justifiable cause for suicide, and whose bloodlust is something just shy of vampirish, a "give me pork chops or give me death" kind of mentality. And, in the left corner, we have the sort of perpetually irritated, anemic vegans who shout bloody murder at a person for daring to order the chicken salad sandwich, who refer to honey as "bee vomit," and who firmly feel that shunning carnivorous delights is the only way that humans can prevent full-scale Armageddon, followed by a Road Warrior-style post-apocalyptic nightmare (I'm looking at you, Skinny Bitches). Absolute nutters, both, and it's a shame that these are the ones who tend to grab all the media attention.

But, as I noted, most of us with an opinion on the subject find ourselves somewhere in the "spirited but rational argument" range. The fact that the larger issue involves so much more than simple dietary choice — be it anthropology, biology, nutrition, religion, global economy or ecology, agriculture, animal welfare, sustainability, or, of course, ethics — is what makes it such a fascinating debate, and why people have been doing so since the dawn of recorded history. It's complex, nuanced, and tricky stuff. However, there is one facet of this matter that I failed to cover in my book, and which I think it's finally time for me to address:

Let's talk about sex, baby.

It recently came to my attention that there is a small sect within the vegetarian community who refer to themselves as "vegansexuals." Yes: vegansexuals. As in a person who not only avoids using or consuming all animal products, but who goes so far as to refuse engaging in sexual congress with a person who doesn't. You may smell like Roquefort and rotten prunes fermenting in a sweaty gym sock and have all the charisma of a potato, and so long as you're not wearing leather shoes or drinking cow's milk in your latte, you're eligible to knock Naugahyde boots with one of these folks.

I found this discovery both hilarious and bafflingly strange. And I'm not the only one; check out this video of a news anchor erupting in uncontrollable laughter upon learning about it. Which shouldn't be surprising. Some people get so deeply sucked into the cause's vortex that they go from being vegetarian to vegan, to raw foods and, in some instances, wind up as "breatharians." After which, I imagine, they die of starvation, another example of natural selection at work. But the sex issue is just too compelling to dismiss as pure nut-jobbery. First, it's impossible to ignore that, yes, a person's diet does in fact have a proven physiological effect on the smell and taste of certain human, er…effluents. Most people realize this early in life, usually after a nice helping of asparagus. As far as sex goes, this phenomenon was confirmed for me by a former vegetarian friend of mine who, during her meat-abstaining days, tended only to date others, both men and women, of the vegetable set. "Vegetarians taste sweeter," she told me, "and carnivores tend to be more pungent." Fair enough.

But you know what? I like pungent. Sex is pungent, and it should be. It's a sweaty, primal, animal act, and denying that fact seems to me like deliberately avoiding the issue instead of embracing and enjoying it. I mean, we're made of meat, for crying out loud! Why deny that? After chewing on these thoughts for some time now, I've reached the following conclusion: Carnivorism is decidedly sexier than veganism. [Note: I'll leave out traditional vegetarians, here, since Hindu vegetarians in India penned the Kama Sutra, which is smokingly sexy.] Physical love — or good physical love, anyway — is all about appetite, and which lover would you rather take to bed: the one who picks joylessly at the lactose-free salad of edible flowers, or the person eager to taste and devour with relish every local and seasonal specialty, someone who ravishes each dish with delight and abandon? No contest. Not to mention that the Latinate word we use to connote sexual matters — carnality (as in "carnal knowledge" or "carnal desire") — shares the same root word as the one we use to describe the meat on our plates. This is not a coincidence. There's never been a survey done on this particular connection, but I imagine that omnivores make better lovers than vegans. How can someone who eschews animal flesh actually describe themself as having a healthy "carnal appetite"?  I can't help too but wonder if vegansexuals' severe code of non-animal-involvement extends to language. Are "doggy-style," the reverse cowgirl" and "making the beast with two backs" verboten, as well? How far does this policy of preclusion extend? Whatever it is, I'll take a pass. This probably goes without saying, but at the end of the evening, I'm taking home the gal who orders the medium-rare rib-eye and tucks into it with gusto and pleasure.

I think it's also a fair assumption that a person who is neophobic or demonstrably picky about what they'll do at the dining table might be equally squeamish about their activity in the boudoir. When it comes to carnal matters, I think most of us will agree that a spirit of eagerness, adventure, and curiosity is certainly an asset when you're looking to couple up and canoodle. HOWEVER, as much as I enjoy eating meat, I'd deign to incorporate it into the actual lovemaking process, no matter what George Constanza said about pastrami being "the most sensual of the smoked, cured meats."

Let's stick to vegetarian-friendly whipped cream, strawberries and chocolate sauce for that, and leave the meat at the table, shall we?

Scott Gold is the author of The Shameless Carnivore: A Manifesto for Meat Lovers (Broadway Books, 2008), a selection of which is featured in Best Food Writing 2008 (Da Capo Lifelong Books), and which you can find more about on his Web site . A New Orleans native, Gold now lives in Brooklyn, New York. He also enjoys many vegetables.

Home page photograph from iStockPhoto, “Shameless Carnivore” photograph by Ryan McVay/Getty Images, "Plate" photograph from FoodCollection/Getty Images.