Another Planet

No pictures tonight - dinner of Cauliflower au Gratin, although edible, was neither pretty nor delicious enough to warrant the effort so I didn't.

But I did want to have a whinge or a rant or just share with another soul that recurring experience that every vegan encounters and dreads; the omnivore with a chip on their shoulder about vegans.

I was at my language class and since the end of term is approaching plans were being made for the group night out, a meal at a local hostelry. There was no way to avoid it, asked straight out why I was a party pooper I had to answer, not as I might have liked to say that spending three hours in convivial gluttony with my classmates seemed to be a fate worse than death but that because I am vegan (végétalien) there was nothing on the set menu that it would be possible for me to eat.

I wish I'd said the other thing.

In our number, mostly older people retiring to this quiet corner of Normandy, are a few who supplement their pensions by doing a little B&B on the side. One of these had attempted to cook for vegan guests and had her efforts rebuffed because she had glazed a pastry with some of her own free range hen's egg. Clearly she never had a chance to put her point of view to the vegan party because she was seething with resentment and very anxious to make her point clear to me, in case I could pass the message on I suppose.

Her main beef (if that's not an insensitive word) was that hens can't be stopped from laying eggs, her hens weren't ever allowed to have sex (no rooster) and so the eggs were infertile and redundant. It would be wasteful not to eat them up. (the phrasing is mine, imagine a little more Queen Victoria in the delivery for the full effect).

What was I supposed to do? I said I sympathised but that discussions about veganism were a bit like politics, best not tackled over dinner (or in a language class). She persisted so I tentatively suggested that vegans would prefer she didn't keep hens. She was having none of that - hens are made for keeping, they keep them all over the world and her hens live the life of Riley. Which I'm sure they do. At that moment we were called to order to confer over the outing again. Thank goodness for class discipline!

Like I said, another planet.