Flexibility or: The Vegan Police Take the Night Off

Last night was our high school's Indoor Track Banquet (do we really call something held in the high school cafeteria a banquet?  You bet we do!).  I accompanied my son Harry, aka: The Vegan Cop. Harry's been keeping me on the straight and narrow for the past ten days: no cheating allowed. Vegan is vegan and no morsel of dairy, egg, or even honey (which some vegan's eat) is allowed to pass my lips.  Harry zeal is personal: he'd like to be vegan, but I'm afraid that if you take pizza, mozzarella sticks, and ice cream out of his diet, his skinny frame would all but disappear (and as it is, he walks around hungry most days).  He has his principles, but right now, they're just not strong enough to power him through being a vegetarian who actually eats vegetables (he's sure the portions of them that he ate as a toddler are still sufficient).  So, he's protecting the animals of the world by making sure I eat nothing that comes from them.

However, Harry's in love with the garlic bread that's served at the banquet. I heard about it all week, with warnings that I must, must, must, grab a slice as soon as the parents are invited up to the buffet (parents usually get first dibs) because otherwise, the team would snatch it all up and I'd miss my chance.  "Probably not vegan, Har," I informed him. He barely acknowleged the ethical dilemma this was throwing me into.  He clearly was not worried about the cows the butter on it had come from. After all, this is the garlic bread against which all garlic breads are measured.  A culinary masterpiece, mass produced and stored in a warming pan.  I know when my role as a mother is to set aside my own priorities and go for it. 

In all fairness, without Officer Harry's blessing, I'd have put aside the Vegan Experiment for the night anyway.  I'd already decided that, for now at least, I'd be moderate in this and that if it came to not eating (or being a royal pain in the butt to others who are willing to feed me on occasion), I'd forego being a purist.  I know that I can control what I eat when I'm home but that at times, when I'm out I'll relax about it.  

I got on the buffet line (after almost everyone else as the parents were not given priority over the hungry teens this time and I decided that Harry would forgive me if I missed the bread because I didn't want to race to get it) and surveyed my choices: salad with spinach (I don't eat spinach for medical reasons), chicken with mushrooms (do I pick off the mushrooms?  Nah, too chickeny and too self-serving), pasta (probably some cheese in the tomato sauce, but it's a go), roasted potatoes (maybe some butter, but possibly vegan), zucchini (most likely had butter on it, but this was my night to go wild), and Yes! the garlic bread was still there!  A brownie and a bit of cake for desert (this is my chance!  I can't waste it!)  The food was okay.  Frankly, the next time I "cheat" I hope it's with food that hasn't been in warming trays quite so long.  And, I hope that next time I get a real honest-to-goodness brownie, it's really thick, gooey, chewy, and chocolaty because the one I had last night tasted like it could have been - - - vegan!  (Nah, I know it wasn't, but it wasn't worth the cheat or the calories.)  The cake was what makes us all eat too much sugar and hate to give up eggs and milk for - it was light, sweet, perfect (too bad there were no plates, forks, or napkins by that point in the night - although, for sure, none of the athletes and few of the parents seemed to care).

To top off the evening, I came home and decided "in for a nickel, in for a dime".  To cap off my fall from vegan grace, I had two Girl Scout Samoa cookies.  

And now, I'm ready to get back on the wagon.  I've found I like eating a vegan diet.  I realized last night that I don't miss the foods I used to eat and that I'm enjoying cooking differently.  I enjoy the creativity of trying different combinations of vegetables, grains, and beans.  I like the crunch of these foods.  And I like knowing that I'm doing one more thing to "do no harm".  The discipline of it is good, too - it's hard to mindlessly eat vegan, it's one more way to practice mindfulness.  And I suspect, Officer Harry will be back walking his beat again today - letting this excon know that she may have been paroled for a few hours, but it's time to get back to pressing those "Vegan Foods This Way" road signs again.  I'm not sorry about it one bit.