When my 17 year old daughter announced,
nonchalantly and with no real plan, that she was “going vegan,” my first
response was “You must be kidding.” What do we know about balancing vital
nutrients? She will get rickets in a week! Aren’t there illnesses caused by not
eating enough protein or too much Vitamin D or something? But she was adamant
and even showed me some truly horrifying Youtube videos about how animals are treated
when they are raised for meat that made me hesitate with my hamburger halfway
to my mouth. I agree that we need to fight for more humane treatment in the
meat industry, so I had to admire her commitment to the cause. I just knew I
could never stick to it myself.
For
the first week, I kept expecting her to throw in the towel. We didn’t really
have anything vegan in the house, so we would have dinner and her plate would
be empty except for a few lonely brussel sprouts or broccoli stalks. I didn’t
want to blow a bunch of money on vegan products, which are categorically
overpriced by the way, when I was sure the novelty of it would wear off in a
few days and we would be stuck with a fridge full of hummus and meatless
meatballs.
But
then week three rolled around and she was STILL A VEGAN. And she was a
sensitive vegan. She didn’t find it funny when I pretended that the asparagus
were screaming in pain when I chopped off their heads for the pasta. I asked
her if she could still bring herself to eat the fruit salad, knowing that all
of those bananas and strawberries had sacrificed their lives for her, and she
didn’t even crack a smile. She even started making her own dinners so that she
would have more than a pile of vegetables on her plate, and when I saw her
eating black beans I knew it was for real. She has never willingly eaten a bean
in her life. And then I started worrying
that my nonsupport was going to get me kicked out of the running for mother of
the year…
The
real turning point came when we made a trip to Myrtle Beach for a college visit
to Coastal Carolina. Eating out with her was hard. The typical beach restaurants
had very few dishes without meat or seafood, and I was starting to worry that
her brain was going to start dissolving from a lack of protein. So I sucked it
up and checked Trip Advisor for “Vegan Cuisine.” (Yes, there really is a search
option for “Vegan Cuisine” in Trip Advisor.) There was one listing. It was 17
miles away, deep into the “residential” area of North Myrtle Beach, and clearly
undiscovered by the hordes of shrimp and oyster-loving vacationers to South
Carolina. When I asked her if she wanted to go there for dinner she was
lukewarm: “Whatever. We can if you want.” If I want? Um, no, I don’t want. I
hate beans and tofu and sprouts and $8.99 smoothies with wheat grass and added
protein. But I could hear it in her voice, she needed to meet some of her own
kind.
So
we plugged the inland address into the GPS and left the beach, headed for Bay
Naturals Organic Market and Café. The GPS spit us out in front of a shoe store
in a strip mall, but luckily we spotted the twinkle lights in the café’s tiny
outdoor seating area way in the back next to a loading dock, and we managed to
slip in the door 30 minutes before closing time. Friendly shouts of “Welcome to
the co-op!” greeted us, and the smell of honey and something very earthy
dominated the front of the store. But the grill was in the back and they were
closing soon so we moved quickly down the rows of organic products I didn’t
even know existed (dried seaweed chips? Sunflower butter?) and grabbed a menu.
Vegan
descriptions are as close to a foreign language as anything I have ever seen. Everything
on the menu had a code for Vegetarian/Vegan/Organic. Fortunately the girls
working in the café were friendly and apparently used to clueless middle-aged
carnivore mothers quizzing them. Tempeh vs tofu on the salad, soy milk vs
almond milk vs unpasteurized apple juice in the smoothie – they patiently
explained all of the options and differences in flavors and textures and we
ended up with…food made out of plants. Fakin bacon didn’t fool me, but it
was…ok.
But
the big payoff was watching Erin. She felt at home here, and I could almost see
the wheels turning in her head as she started to figure out how a vegan puts
food together and makes it taste good. I watched her eat with an enjoyment I
had not seen in a long time. Food was not her enemy, and I was surprised to
find that I felt relieved. I realized that I had been sad for her, mourning her
never eating a big bowl of ice cream with me again or going out for shrimp with
the family at the beach. I didn’t realize how much of our time together
revolved around food, or how her veganism would separate her from us. But here,
in this tiny co-op in South Carolina, I could begin to see how our two worlds
could co-exist peacefully. The plants and the animals could all sit down and
enjoy a meal at the same table someday. Maybe I could talk my mom into making a
tofurkey for Thanksgiving this year…
