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Bad Vegan, bad, bad Vegan

September 29, 2009

It’s one thing to cheat with some dairy.  It’s quite another to cheat with pork.

I had a grilled ham and cheese sandwich for lunch today, thus combining dairy, meat and the evil white flour bread. 

I think it was partly location.  The sushi restaurant where I fully intended to indulge only in kappa rolls and miso harbored an unappealing smell. My dining companion and I ventured further down 2nd Avenue, south of Broadway, near the Symphony Hall where a smallish restaurant neither of us had tried beckoned to us with its cool and breezy interior and blessed lack of normal lunch time crowd people.  This was a bar with food.  It felt cozy and remotely naughty to be in such an establishment during the day. I decided to go with that feeling and ordered the sandwich on special – the aforementioned ham and cheese.

I reasoned that the vegetable sides would be slathered in butter anyway and it was better to have something like a ham and cheese than to fool myself into believing the mixed vegetables from the freezer were any better for me after they had been drowned in dairy. Perfectly reasonable.

It’s just a sandwich, not like it’s black tar heroin or anything – but I can’t shake the image of Dylan McKay chasing the dragon in his bathtub Porsche – only instead of smoking the bad shit he looks both ways and then digs into a ham and swiss on rye.

I need a Cirque Lodge for pig addiction.  I’m on a ham high.

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