How To Eat At A Steakhouse When You're A Vegan

About a week ago I found myself at a prominent steakhouse in New York's lower east side called Strip House. I wasn't aware we were going there, but I also wasn't paying since it was on my friends company buck, so in the cab ride over I kept my mouth shut.

I went with a large party, all of whom were eager to try one of the many meat and dairy options on the menu. I only knew two in the group previously, and didn't feel like waving my vegan flag loud and proud right at first. Drink orders entered, I began to peruse the menu. I thought I would have to order 2-3 sides, consisting of flavorless boiled veges or dry lettuce doused with the olive oil I eagerly ask if they have; like I usually do at American style restaurants where the fare is more carnivore friendly. Instead, I see that the menu had not one, but two delicious sounding salads, one vegan friendly from the get-go, and one that could be sans the cheese. There was also a baked potato option, which I was hoping wasn't drenched in butter.

The waiter comes back and I'm the first to order. Luckily the restaurant's noise level is on full volume so no one at the table can hear me order, or so I think. I ask the waiter for the already vegan friendly salad, and inquire about the baked potato. Finding that it isn't cooked in a vat of butter, I order that as well. "This will be your appetiser madam?" the waiter asks me, eyebrows raised, disapproving frown starting to creep up on his lips. "No, that will be my main dish, I'm vegan," I state matter of factly. He gave what I'm not sure was a quick nod of approval or disdain and went to the next person to take their order. Seconds later the neighbor on my right says, "So you're a vegan?" Ahh, the volume in the restaurant must not have been turned up as loud as I thought. "Yes," I proclaim, eyes strait ahead, no shame now that it's out in the open. "Wow," he says with a quizzical look on his face, "how do you do it?" I then spend the remainder of the time waiting for my food engaged in a conversation about veganism, with him telling me how he tried to be vegetarian for a year, and then going on to tell me a really funny story about a band he traveled the world with whose fans all thought they were vegetarians.

Food comes out, I survey every ones steaks and start to dig into my salad. "Where's your steak," someone yells from across the table. "Oh, I'm not having any, just salad and a baked potato for me," I say all to cheerily, smile plastered on my face. The same someone yells, "Okay, well try some of this bacon I have, it's delicious." Not wanting this charade to go on any longer I explain that I'm a vegan, holding my breath thinking the lights were going to get turned up, volume lowered and everyone would be staring at me crazy-eyed screeching, "Vegan, why would you come to a steak house if you're a vegan?" I, thinking the same thing would agree with them, but then I would go on to explain that I didn't know where I was going for dinner and on top of that it was a free meal. Avoiding the steak knives thrown at my head, I would bolt for the door, never looking back. Of course, there was no riot or even outrage, instead my table mate just smiled and said, "Oh, cool, okay."

I did make one rooky mistake when ordering. Over excited by my options in a true to form steakhouse, I didn't ask for a vegan friendly side for my baked potato. Instead of salsa or chives and olive oil, out comes four sides, all consisting of meat or dairy. Not wanting to send them back, I start to eat my potato dry. Just then, my neighbor to my left offers me the sumptuous grilled garlic drenched in olive oil she doesn't want. I all to happily agree to take it off her hands and precede to stuff every last clove into my opened baked potato. Problem solved.

After polishing off my salad and most of my baked potato, I am happy, full and glad that I was able to hold my own around all the meat eaters. Looking around I see half-eaten animal carcasses, with everyone pushing them aside, proclaiming to the waiter that they just can't eat another bite. Sending the remains of the animal, who rest his soul, has been dead probably for months now to his second grave. Am I supporting this by eating at the restaurant? Probably. Would I go back on my own, definitely not. But when you're young and your pocket book is empty, a free meal is hard to pass up. Just take the vegan route like I did, except ask for the good sides for the baked potato and don't be afraid to show your dinner compadres your true colors from the start.

Cali Girl in the Big Apple

A feeling of accomplishment settled over me last night as I set down the last of the Sunday New York Times. My first New York Times, read almost in entirety as an official New Yorker (emphasis on the New). It is this accomplishment that brought me to write on the morning of my sixth day in the big apple. I am enthralled, enamored and enthusiastic (sorry for the triple 'E' adjective streak, I was on a roll) with the city and about the city. It is a mad, mad world, and I am happy to be apart of it.

Leaving California, I received an overwhelming combination of well-wishes and warnings from family and friends. "You'll do great" "Enjoy yourself, be safe" "Don't walk around late at night" "Keep mace and a flashlight with you" "Avoid the subways at night" "Be wary of Central Park at night" "You'll be back here in no time, so enjoy it while you can"- well, that would be enough to send the most seasoned traveler running for the airport check-in, but I, a very unseasoned traveler, took the good with the bad. On moving day, I had a smile on my face and my carry-on in hand (and more in tow...I did move across the country) and headed for Manhattan with all the excitement and jitters of a middle school girl on the eve of ninth grade.

Once in the city that never sleeps, I reflected on what my co-traveler and insightful friend Chelsea says, "It is what it is," meaning, take things a day at a time, live your life the way you want to live it and enjoy life for what it is--the final destination. While that may seem a bit morbid to some, like someone with more life experience than me said once, "You have to live your life ever day with the appreciation that it is not guaranteed--or you are not living." I can admit, amidst my looming job hunt, all-hours social scene and exhaustive, but yummy quest for vegan food, I am living my life with the most zeal that I can, and I am also looking for something. What, I'm not really sure. Experience: Yes. Adventure: Definitely. Love: Eh. I am a believer in fate and serendipity (not to be confused with the John Cusack, Kate Beckinsale movie, even though I'm a beleiver in that as well), so whatever comes my way I will take it in and (hopefully) be better for the experience.

Of course, there are those that view my optimistic and care free personality (with no job to speak of yet and only enough moolah in the bank to get me through another month or two) as downright crazy. I, however, like to live life on the wild side. I feel that you have to roll the dice of fate, and win it all or lose it all, take the risk and at least try. Call me naive, crazy, or an amazing forward thinking strong-willed adventurer (that last mouthful was just for my own ego), but I am what I am. I want life experience, adventure, great stories to tell, plus so much more-- and you know what? I think I can have my (egg and dairy free) cake and eat it too.