This restaurant was a place of perversion, or so he said. “Did you take look at the menu yet?” He nudged my arm and pointed at the list of main courses “They’re all vegan! Bio dynamic, gluten free! Is there anything edible here?” I rolled my eyes and sighed “Well you asked me on a date, and I got to pick the restaurant.” He fumbled with the napkin and gave me a cold stare “You could’ve picked something where they served meat, not just fancy rabbit food.”
This is a typical date when you’re a lactose intolerant vegetarian. Especially if it’s their turn to pick a place to eat on the second date (if there is one, mind you). The “vegetarian friendly” facilities usually offer a veggie’s worst nightmare: The beet salad.
Dear beet salad,
So, we meet again. I have to be honest, I did not miss you. Chefs seem to adore you because you’re quick and cheap, you’re also anything but creative. Then again, it’s your versatility that makes you appealing to the average cook. You and goat cheese have been a thing for years, but people also like to douse you in vinegar and call it a day. Dear beet salad, you’re not worth the money. After a long week of school I do not want to invest in something so basic, I deserve more. I deserve black bean burgers, luxurious curries and pad Thai. This is what happens when I let a meat eater pick the setting for our first romantic encounter. You manage to ruin my day, you poor excuse for a fancy veggie feast.
Dear beet salad, you kale my vibe.