A vegetarian at the seaside: rant

Vegetables Disguised as Fish at the Gardner Museum Cafe

A good metaphor for being vegetarian at a seaside resort town is that the only health food store becomes a beer hall.

When you ask if there is anything vegetarian to eat, the waiter will brightly say, “ we have a really good veggie burger.”

Twenty years ago,the only veg option at a nice restaurant was stir fry, which was another name for steamed carrots, beans, and portobello mushrooms over fried rice.

Before veggie burgers, an entire giant portobello mushroom would be seared and served in a bun.

At Chinese restaurants, the veg option was Buddha’s Delight,meaning you had given you taste.

Thirty years ago,you could ask for mashed potatoes, but not the gravy.

Someone realized pasta could work as a vegetarian option, and that vegetarian did not mean boiled noodles with salt.

A non-vegetarian will assume a vegetarian can’t have ever have had a decent meal.

A vegetarian will only realize how difficult it is to be a dinner guest when hosting gluten-intolerant guests, or vegans.

Vegans are much more militaristic than vegetarians.

MasterClass with Ravi Shankar video ( 2008)

youtu.be/pofptVdYvEA

The Wind Outside

Photo by Austris Augusts for Unsplash

They say the wind is at 55 miles per hour. Hurricane strength. But I think it is more like 36 miles now. I saw two hawks trying to get their bearing in the sky, using the wind to tumble forward. A cardinal took shelter in place. I keep thinking of all the animals that died in the Australian fires, and think of how hard it must be to be a bird in gale force wind, holding on.

The entire month feels like a waiting game. The defeat of the impeachment. The Napoleon at the table, brainless, thoughtless, ruining things because he can.

I think of nature murmuring no, of casting wind howls towards us with disdain.

The clouds, light ink blue, move slowly.

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