Q.) What are vegans allowed to eat? A.) Anything.

There is a particular thing that non-vegans sometimes say that drives me crazy. I know it's innocently meant, but it just pushes my buttons. It comes up at work fairly frequently, and it goes like this:

"There's [insert name of food here] in the kitchen. Are you allowed to eat that?"

Allowed? Allowed by whom?

I'll have patience with it the first time, maybe even the second. Though I always answer the exact same way, the answer comes out a little bit snippier each time I have to repeat it to the same individual. Because it seems no matter how many times I explain it, the question keeps coming back. And the answer is this:

"I am allowed to eat anything I want. I choose not to eat anything that contains animal products."

There is no Dr. John Q. Veganizer, M.D. writing a book to specify what I'm 'allowed' to eat. Saying something is 'allowed' implies that there are consequences if one does that which isn't allowed. There are no personal consequences here. There cannot be, because I make this choice not for reasons of my personal health, nor from societal pressure to conform in my personal appearance, but for the benefit of other living creatures.

It's important to understand that veganism is not a diet. People who choose to stop eating animals for health or appearance are following a plant-based diet - strictly speaking, they are not vegans. The word vegan applies to those whose decisions are based on ethics and go beyond just food, including also clothing, toiletries, medicines, and entertainment that exploits animals. Veganism comes from a totally different root than following a diet.The act of dieting is rooted in a concern for self. Certainly that can be a good and right concern - I'm not saying there's anything necessarily wrong with it. The point I'm making is that veganism is rooted in the concern for others, and no one can 'allow' you to put others before yourself. That's a choice only you can make, so to say "allowed" becomes subtle downplaying of a person's agency in making this choice.

If someone tells you they're following the South Beach Diet, or Atkins, or even a doctor-recommended meal plan for a certain health condition, asking what they are 'allowed' to eat makes sense to some degree. These diets were essentially thrust upon them, either by a healthcare professional, a personal health concern, or by society, in the form of a belief that they must meet a certain weight standard. They still made the choice to stick that diet, yes, but probably not because they really wanted to do so. Ask anyone who is on a diet for health or weight reasons, and they're pretty likely to tell you they wish they could eat the things they did before. 

No so with vegans. (Or at least, not so with those of us whose convictions are firm and habits are set - I admit, it can be tough when you're making the transition from the old way of doing things.) Veganism is a conscious decision based on ethics; the underlying motivation is different. I want to be a vegan, and I want to be a vegan for life. I have no wish to return to the way I ate before.

When it comes down to it, veganism is simply not restrictive. You do not miss doing something that you don't want to do. I made a choice not to eat animals, and that choice brings me peace and contentment, not a sense of deprivation. To ask me what I'm "allowed" to eat demeans that choice.

So for the record, non-vegan friends, the appropriate question is this:

"Is that something you'll eat?"

News Flash for a Waitress: Bacon is Meat

My husband and I stopped for coffee this morning while we waited for the repair shop to finish with his motorcycle. He was in the middle of telling me a story when my attention was (somewhat rudely on my part) drawn to the next table. Here's what went on:

Father: What can my son eat? He doesn't eat meat or eggs?
Waitress: No eggs at all?
Mother: No. And no meat or dairy.
Waitress: Umm, maybe the French toast? No, that has eggs. How about a sandwich?
Teen: Do you have sandwiches that don't have meat in them?
Waitress: Well, there's the BLT. Do you eat bacon?
Teen: No meat.
Waitress: But what about bacon?
Father: *sighs* Is the pancake batter made with milk or egg in it?
Waitress: I don't think so. I'll go check.

At this point, I begged my husband's forgiveness for ignoring him, and he wisely told me to go tell the kid what he could eat - knowing I wouldn't be able to concentrate until the poor child was properly fed.    The parents looked so relieved to have someone who spoke their kid's language, and we quickly sorted his order, before the waitress even got back to inform them that yes, there are eggs in the pancakes.

Good deed for the day -- check!

The Rudely Dubious Waiter & the Cheesewashing of America

Today I went to lunch with work pals, and this happened:

Me: I'll have the small roasted vegetable pizza, no cheese.
Waiter: No cheese?
Me: No cheese.
Waiter: *dubious face* You're sure about that?
Me: Yes, quite sure.
Waiter: I just don't get the point. I mean, it's pizza.
Me: *smiles patiently*
Waiter: I'm just saying, I couldn't eat it.
Me: I love it.
Waiter: Oh-kaaay...

As if this wasn't rude enough, when he came back to check on us while we were eating...

Waiter: Is everything okay?
Me: Terrific, thanks.
Waiter: If you say so! I guess maybe you're just used to it...
Me: It's delicious. You should try it some time.
Waiter: Uh... yeah. Maybe.

With the exception of one time that this happened to my husband with an extremely blunt waitress (whose objection seemed mostly about the spinach fettuccine on his plate), I've never seen this happen to a carnist. I've been out to dinner with colleagues who've ordered veal, bloody cuts of beef, organ meats, or with my Gran ordering tongue slathered with mayonnaise - things that many people would consider unappetizing, to say the least. And no matter how high-maintenance or unusual a request people have made, it's usually handled politely. But since going vegan, the dubiousness, if not always the blatant rudeness, is a regular occurrence for me.

I know that asking for no cheese on a pizza is an unusual request, and that people tend to view the cheese as the key ingredient. (Which is silly, by the way, because clearly the crust is the key ingredient. It's not a pizza without it - just a plate full of veggies with cheese on top.) But as restaurant requests go, isn't this one actually fairly low-maintenance? I'm just asking them to leave off one ingredient. One of my companions pointed out that for all the waiter knew, I might have a milk allergy. I'm quite sure that if I'd said so at the outset, he'd have accepted that and moved on.

It just got me thinking about how ingrained in our culture the use of cheese has become. So much so that, as I'm sure fellow vegans have experienced, oftentimes when you ask for something without cheese, you get the cheese anyway and have to send it back. It's as though the kitchen staff just can't wrap their heads around the request. Why would anyone want it with no cheese?


Call me a conspiracy theorist if you like, but I can't help but connect the fact that the government subsidizes the cheese industry with the fact that American cheese intake has tripled in my lifetime. It's down to a sort of passive brainwashing - cheesewashing, if you will - that we seem to view it as essential to the taste of most foods.

The truth is that the powerful savory flavors of cheese drown out the other subtler flavors in your food. There is a whole range of flavors that people don't even know they're missing, and that's kind of sad, isn't it?

For the record, the cheese-free pizza was delicious, and not just because I'm used to it.