A win all round for the non-vegan

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For omnivores, it isn’t surprising if they feel invaded, when a vegan opens their fridge and makes comments about the contents. I see inside people’s fridges and of course notice if they have things there that I don’t keep in my fridge. Should I respect the privacy of other people’s larders and cupboards? Of course. Similarly, at someone’s dinner table, I find myself amongst others and I notice, by what they’re eating that they are all omnivore, except for me. My first instinct is to criticise the food, food that has been lovingly prepared. And that makes the cook feel very pissed off.

For hours the cook sweated over the preparations for this meal. It was a creative production. The cook prepares a meal and invites friends over to eat it. And then – WHAM – some unlovely person disapproves. I turn my nose up at it.

Of course I shouldn’t accept invitations without first mentioning the food thing, that is what I don’t eat and why I don’t eat it, all made clear well before I accept any dinner invitation. I shouldn’t get myself into awkward situations where I might feel like judging someone else’s food. If I try to make comments about the food, about animals, etc., I’ll almost certainly change the whole atmosphere of the gathering.

What usually happens, around any dinner table, is that the conversation touches on the food, with compliments to the chef. Imagine then if I say, “Yes, this may be creative cuisine but it’s not good food”, and then launch into the whole animal thing, cruelty, the danger of animal protein. It’s a big slap in the face for the host and for everyone enjoying the food.

There’s nothing like a simple plate of food to spark passions and argument and hurt feelings. Offence is caused and everyone gets to dislike the vegan.

From my point of view I see a golden opportunity to educate everyone at the table, about cruelty issues, about vegan principle and the health advantages of plant-based foods but ... there’s a time and a place. Muscling in on a dinner party conversation to promote veganism probably does much more harm than good. If I ‘ride rough shod’ over people’s feelings, in this case attempting to give everyone a big wake up call, I might feel I’ve done a good job, by speaking up for the animals. But I’ve questioned the cook’s right to prepare the food she chooses. What’s more to the point, I’ve given her guests an opportunity to back her up. And worse, behind my back, my protest gives everyone a chance to bring the incident up again and again, in future table-talk. “When this vegan came round to dinner (who, incidentally, won’t be invited around again!), he said ...”

“I nearly said to him …”.

Food fights always make good stories for retelling, but they can sour whole relationships. As a vegan I try to avoid these dinner invitations. I’m not sure I want anyone to go to the trouble of making special food for me or to eat these ‘special foods’ amongst people who are eating meat. And that means an end to accepting dinner invitations from non-vegans and running the risk of being labelled anti-social.