The pariah strikes again!

938: 

For omnivores,  it isn’t surprising if they start to feel invaded when a vegan opens their fridge and makes comments about what’s inside.

If I’ve been invited around to a friend’s house and I’m in the kitchen,  stashing my beers in their fridge,  I can’t help look at his shelves.  I notice he’s got things there that I don’t keep in my fridge.  I remember how important it is to make no comment - here’s a situation where I must respect the privacy of other people’s larders and cupboards.

Similarly,  at the dinner table.  I find myself amongst other people.  I notice,  by what they’re eating,  the foods on their plates;  they’re foods I don’t eat.  They’re all omnivores.  Here’s my opportunity to say something important like,  “I see what you’re eating has seen the inside of the abattoir”.  A small bomb explodes!  My first instinct is to criticise the food,  food that has been lovingly prepared by my friend,  the cook.  You can guess how pissed off he’d feel,  after sweating for hours over the preparations for this meal only to find me being rude about it.  For him it was a creative production to be shared with friends.  I arrive and turn my nose up at it,  and I even make a rude comment.  Surely,  I think to myself,  they’ll be grateful that I point out some home truths regarding this food,  enlighten them as to where it came from, about the animals,  etc.  But grateful they almost certainly are NOT.

Of course,  I shouldn’t have accepted the invitation,  certainly not without first mentioning the food thing,  about what I don’t eat and why I don’t eat it;  all made clear well beforehand.

I suppose every vegan has been in this situation at some time,  getting themselves into awkward situations where they might feel compelled to judge other people’s food,  and then look for a good opportunity to say how they feel about it.  And most of us,  even if we’ve said nothing,  simply by eating noticeably different food,  we become the centre of attention.  And simply by answering a few innocent questions we’ve affected the whole atmosphere around the table.

What usually happens around any dinner table is that the conversation touches on the food,  with compliments to the chef,  etc.,  but what if I say something like,  “Yes, but great cuisine doesn’t necessarily mean great food”?  I create a half-statement for which I must provide the explanation.  I go on to explain what I mean (by which time I’ve already said too much) and after ruffling a few feathers,  there’s a deadly silence.

It’s a big slap in the face for the host.  It’s not so good either for the others, who might have been enjoying their dinner.

There’s nothing like a simple plate of food to spark passions and arguments and to hurt people’s feelings;  offence is caused and everyone has a good excuse to dislike ‘the vegan’.

From my point of view I might have seen a golden opportunity to educate everyone at the table,  about cruelty issues, about vegan principles,  about the health advantages of plant-based foods,  etc.,  but there’s a time and a place.  Muscling in on a dinner party conversation,  to promote veganism,  probably does more harm than good.  By ‘riding rough shod’ over people’s feelings (in this case attempting to give everyone a big wake-up call) it’ll make me feel good,  to be speaking up for the animals. But what really happens is that I’ve crossed the line;  I’ve questioned the right of the cook, to prepare the food he has chosen,  and,  what’s more to the point,  I’ve given his guests an opportunity to back him up,  and given them a chance to tell others the story of that night,  “When this vegan came round to dinner (who, incidentally, won’t be invited around again!),  he said ...”,  “And I nearly said to him …”.

Food fights always make good stories for retelling, but they sour relationships.  So,  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.  I don’t want to be eating ‘special foods’ alongside people who are eating meat.  And that means I don’t accept dinner invitations from non-vegans.  I run the risk of being labelled anti-social,  but that’s better than being known as a social pariah.