I would wager that most people outside of internet trolls and contrarians would feel more comfortable with lunch afterwards if their trip to the sausage factory involved watching fields of wheat getting processed into flour and then made into dough by my own two hands than they would riding away from a farm in a metal truck with a group of pigs, seeing them stunned and slit, cut into parts, put through a grinder, spices added, and then tossed into a frying pan.
Like most vegans that I know, I didn’t go vegan because I didn’t like the texture or taste of animal-based meat. I went vegan because I didn’t want to contribute to violence and suffering. I went vegan because I think there’s a higher ethic than, “It tastes good.”