Speaking of guacamole . . . When I go into a Mexican restaurant, I do so with the full weight of the armed forces of the United States behind me. Because as a vegetarian, I don’t want to know if there’s lard in the refried beans.
Even though I don’t eat meat, I try not to be fanatical about it. If a dish is described as smothered in chili, I’m going to be curious whether it’s con carne or not. But I can pretty much decide from the description whether or not it’ll turn me off. The refries are another matter, because the more traditional the kitchen, the more likely it is that they’ve stirred in a big dollop o’ lard. And with more eateries taking pains to point out that they don’t use lard, you’ve got to figure that those that don’t say, do. But for a good many years, I’ve turned a blind eye to the question and eaten my beans in willful ignorance.
Same goes for the rice, until I was shocked out of my obliviousness this past year. We were ordering spinach enchiladas in one of our regular Mexican places in Flagstaff and made the mistake of commenting to the waitress that it was one of our favorite veggie dishes in town. Whereupon she identified herself as also a vegetarian and warned us that the rice was made with chicken stock. I didn’t really need to know this, because now I can’t in good conscience get rice there anymore. And of course it now has me wondering about how they prepare it at every other Mexican restaurant I go into.
Entering most restaurants as a vegetarian must be something like entering the army as a homosexual. You don’t really announce yourself. You kind of feel your way around and try to be inconspicuous. But you don’t exactly feel welcome. There are more options for vegetarians in British pubs than there are in most American restaurants. Chains like Friday’s, Chili’s, and Applebee’s could care less. Between the lines in the menu, you read “We don’t need your kind here.” Even so, I don’t mind letting them know when push comes to shove. And it’s not like they’re going to kick me out. So there is a difference.
One of these years, they’ll start posting ingredients on menus. But until then, if there’s lard in the beans or chicken stock in the rice, I’d just as soon not know. Just like the Republicans on the Senate Armed Services Committee. And one of these years, maybe there’ll be a bit more respect on both fronts.
Even though I don’t eat meat, I try not to be fanatical about it. If a dish is described as smothered in chili, I’m going to be curious whether it’s con carne or not. But I can pretty much decide from the description whether or not it’ll turn me off. The refries are another matter, because the more traditional the kitchen, the more likely it is that they’ve stirred in a big dollop o’ lard. And with more eateries taking pains to point out that they don’t use lard, you’ve got to figure that those that don’t say, do. But for a good many years, I’ve turned a blind eye to the question and eaten my beans in willful ignorance. Same goes for the rice, until I was shocked out of my obliviousness this past year. We were ordering spinach enchiladas in one of our regular Mexican places in Flagstaff and made the mistake of commenting to the waitress that it was one of our favorite veggie dishes in town. Whereupon she identified herself as also a vegetarian and warned us that the rice was made with chicken stock. I didn’t really need to know this, because now I can’t in good conscience get rice there anymore. And of course it now has me wondering about how they prepare it at every other Mexican restaurant I go into.
Entering most restaurants as a vegetarian must be something like entering the army as a homosexual. You don’t really announce yourself. You kind of feel your way around and try to be inconspicuous. But you don’t exactly feel welcome. There are more options for vegetarians in British pubs than there are in most American restaurants. Chains like Friday’s, Chili’s, and Applebee’s could care less. Between the lines in the menu, you read “We don’t need your kind here.” Even so, I don’t mind letting them know when push comes to shove. And it’s not like they’re going to kick me out. So there is a difference.
One of these years, they’ll start posting ingredients on menus. But until then, if there’s lard in the beans or chicken stock in the rice, I’d just as soon not know. Just like the Republicans on the Senate Armed Services Committee. And one of these years, maybe there’ll be a bit more respect on both fronts.
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