Nooooooooooooo!
Farewell, my beloved ice cream.
So long, my dear sweet hot cocoa.
Auf wiedersehen, lasagna of my dreams.
A most sorrowful goodbye to my one true love: cheese.
I mourned the loss of my favorite milk products. Seriously mourned them. No pizza? No caramel? No Friendly’s Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup Sundae with Extra Hot Fudge and Chocolate Ice Cream, Not Vanilla? No.
Nothing could be done. Dairy pills worked for a little while, but the more I removed lactose from my diet, the more sensitive I became. For a while I could tolerate butter, milk chocolate, the occasional slice of pizza accompanied by four CVS Brand Extra Strength Dairy Digest pills. But even that was temporary. Better just to give up. Give it all up.
Sure, there are delicious soy and coconut based substitutes for milk, cheese, ice cream, and so on. They’re quite yummy. After a while, you may still notice the difference, but you don’t care. At least the texture is sort-of alright. Until you start thinking about how these dairy substitutes are manufactured. These aren’t what you’d call whole foods.
So for the most part, I became a vegan. This was easy-peasy as long as I stayed home, and had complete control over what I cooked and ate. But ask me out to dinner anyplace that wasn’t Asian and I would squint at the menu, trying to find something I could actually digest. Or I’d have a long discussion with the server about exactly what went into that pasta primavera. I don’t want to be the fussy one at the table – really, I don’t.
And what’s worse? Being invited over for dinner. “Well, yes, I’d love to, but I have a ridiculously restricted diet.”
“What do you eat (that I can also eat)?”
“Well, I like salad. I like pasta. I will eat some of the side dishes, but I don’t eat meat or eggs and I’m allergic to eggplant and I can’t tolerate dairy.”
“Harrumph. Salad it is. Oil and vinegar.”
When I became a vegetarian, it was an experiment. I’d been studying yoga for a while, where one is encouraged to consider the principle of Ahimsa (non-harming). I thought I’d see what it’d be like to give up meat.
It took a while for me to figure out the nutrition thing – how to get enough protein to sustain sufficient energy throughout the day; how NOT to rely on carbs; how fruits and vegetables should really be the items filling up one’s plate. And for a long time, it worked for me. There was plenty to eat at home, always at least one option on a restaurant menu, and friends would at least tolerate my non-meat-eating when the had me over for a meal.
It worked. Until it didn't. No Dairy was the deal-breaker. If you take away pizza, calzones, grilled cheese, mac & cheese, any baked pasta dish, at least half of the "other" pasta dishes, at least half of the veggie burgers (they often contain cheese), risotto, greek salad, caprese, (don't even get me started on dessert), not to mention eggs and eggplant -- and of course -- animal flesh -- what exactly does that leave? Go ahead and try to think of something. Remember, you're not in an Asian restaurant.
In the beginning, when I was young and experimenting with my diet, I told myself, “I will do this vegetarian thing for as long as it makes sense. And when it doesn’t, I will stop.”
There were plenty of times when it really didn’t feel like it was working anymore. Times when it was so hard to find adequate protein. Times when I was tired of soaking and cooking up batches of those damn dried beans. I’d say, “Okay I’ll try eating fish again.” But then I’d get a forkful into my mouth and nooooooooo . . . I couldn’t do it. It just didn’t FEEL right. Back to the beans.
I didn’t miss meat. Sure the smell of bacon or the memory of an Angelina’s Sub Shop Hot Pastrami With Cheese, Onions, Mustard and Pickles could transport me into a mouth-watering fantasia . . . but no. I didn’t need it. I didn’t want it. I was fine without.
But I wasn’t. Because, I realized one day as I was trying to think of a restaurant where both me and my relatively non-adventurous (food-wise), meat-loving friend and I could enjoy a meal . . . it no longer made sense. I could go on dining at home or at strictly at Asian establishments; I could continue to be the one that no one wanted to invite over for dinner. Or I could change. I could welcome meat back into my diet. I didn’t care at all about what other people thought. But it would make ME a whole lot happier. Imagine going to a restaurant and actually having CHOICES! I could still be a vegan at home (the lactose intolerance wasn’t going away), but I could slowly integrate animal flesh back into my diet for the occasions where I actually wanted something other than soy products or beans, marvelous, beans. Why not have a turkey sandwich? Or some roast chicken? Or . . . OMG . . . remember how much I used to love spare ribs? Imagine being able to try – for the first time – tekka maki, or tilapia, or even duck?
What about Ahimsa? I know, I know. But remember? I said I would be a vegetarian for as long as it made sense. We yogis need to be flexible ;)
So I’m taking it slowly. I had a piece of overcooked bacon first (no scary fat clumps). Then a spoonful of my mother’s delicious Italian sausage with peppers and onions in tomato sauce (and several additional spoonfuls to follow). Then a thai chicken salad. Even though I only ate about a third of the chicken (I am still getting used to the texture), it felt good to try something “new” – nourishing in more ways than one.
I finished off (no, this did not all happen in one day – more like over the course of a month or so) a small box of fish sticks that my son had rejected. Then I went to the deli and bought two slices of turkey breast and made myself a nice little wrap with lots of lettuce and vegan mayo and a pickle and a small bag of chips on the side. Then my son and I went out to breakfast and I had a whole wheat english muffin with peanut butter and a side of turkey bacon. Eating meat feels weird to me at times – 22 years is a long time to get used to a specific diet. But it also feels right, somehow.
But man, oh, man, I will never stop missing cheese.
