Becoming a pesky vegan
Annie Wood

When I’ve asked people in coffee shops or waiters in restaurants if something is vegan, I get the most common response of: “what does that mean?”

I think there’s a distinct lack of awareness of how much animals are used in our food. Milk is in nearly everything I used to eat — finding something that seems like it should have milk, that then doesn’t is a strange delight. It’s becoming easier to avoid meat and dairy because I’m getting used to expecting certain foods to sneak it in.

You want a creamier taste? Probably milk. It’s spongy? Maybe egg. It’s like jelly? Well, expect gelatine.

Today, I ordered the “veg-mex” burger from Handmade Burger Co. and thought it tasted great. But looking aside at my friend’s bacon and cheese burger with coleslaw reminded me of how decorated a plate looks when you mix in meat, eggs and milk. My burger was awesome, so I wasn’t jealous — but I did feel like maybe the restaurant could do a better job with my burger by giving me more of the roasted vegetables that were lightly scattered around.

Imagine… if people envied the delights of my food over their meaty milk meals.

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