Coming Out to B's Family

Massillon Mural, Photo by Andrew Dinh

Last weekend B and I traveled northeast to Massillon for his mom's birthday. As I've mentioned, I made the switch right after the holidays. That means none of B's meat'n'cheese lovin' family members, expect his brother, who lives here in Columbus, knew about my new dietary needs. I spent a good deal of time contemplating my approach for this dinner for two reasons:

1. B's family, much like every family I know in Massillon, eats a very traditional American diet. We're talking casseroles and canned vegetables. Side note, some of my own family are still amazed that I eat so many vegetables now because when I was younger I would throw tantrums in lieu of eating them. My explanation? HELLO? You were trying to feed me nasty canned peas. Salty, disgusting green beans! What did you expect? If I could have seen some fresh from the farmer's market veggies, I would have been veg*n from the start. Anyway. Massillon families are traditional eaters. And, without being mean, because I love a lot of people in that city, I still contend that it isn't really a place where open-mindedness lives.

2. Part of my value system is that I refuse to be a douche bag about it. I believe that the lifestyle is the best and that everyone could benefit from it, but I don't believe in telling people that, in detail, with pictures, with guilt-trips, all the time. My rule of thumb is that I don't bring it up unless prompted, and I don't go in depth unless asked. Some people are very curious and open to what I have to say. Some people look at me like I'm crazy and say things like, "I could never give up MEAT!" I had the inclination that B's parents and grandparents would be more on the side of the latter.

So, when B's mamma's b-day came around, I took a deep breath and asked what they would be having for dinner. Lasagna, rolls, salad. Okay, I thought, this will be easy. So, with the help of my mom, we whipped up a single serving of veggie lasagna. I knew what I wanted in it: tofu, zucchini, carrots, sauce, and spices, but I needed help getting it to look like an actual lasagna. We boiled and cut down the noodles into little squares, and then Mom looked at my piles of shredded veggies and tofu and said,

"Okay, now what's the meat? That goes next."

She made four or five layers and we poured some extra sauce and tofu on top. It looked like lasagna to me. I put it in a to-go container and I was ready to go.

Except wait! This is a birthday party. There's going to be cake! I didn't want to totally pass on the cake because I've learned passing on sweets makes me feel deprived and sad. So I whipped up a veg*n cake in a coffee cup and took it with me too.

When dinner was ready at B's fam's house, I told his sister not to be offended, that I brought my own, because I don't eat meat or dairy anymore.

She immediately said, "Oh, are you doing that vegan thing!?" She went on to tell me about how Alicia Silverstone is vegan and I guess wrote a book about it. She also mentioned a newsletter she had gotten at college that was supposed to help students figure out how to eat healthily, organically, on campus or with very little money. I was pumped that the first reaction was a positive one.

When I brought my own lasagna to the table, B's mom said, "What in the heck is that?"

"I brought my own," I said, "because I don't eat meat or dairy anymore."

"I wondered how you were going to approach this meal," B's brother said, laughing.

"Why?" his mom asked.

"Well, it's good for the environment," I said.

"Oh, don't tell me that!" she said. (She's been trying to go green.)

"And," I said, "It's the best way to avoid heart disease and cancer."

B's grandpa spoke up then, "I've been eating meat for 70 years!"

"In ten years, they'll be saying something else, so I just eat everything," B's mom said, "Are you doing this too, B?"

"I'm not doing anything, let's eat," B said.

"Well I could be a vegetarian," his grandma said, "if I didn't have to cook meat for everyone else."

"So you can't eat this lasagna, or the cake or the ice cream?"

"No, but I can eat the salad," I said, "and the rolls... do the rolls have eggs in them?"

"You can't eat eggs!?" B's mom said.

"No, no eggs, no milk, no meat products at all."

"Wow, I feel bad you can't eat this... this is going to be hard."

"Mom, you don't have to make her special meals," B said, "she's fine, it's not a big deal."

"It's really not," I said. "I even brought my own cake."

The conversation died down quickly, and as we said the prayer (bless us, oh lord, and these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty, through christ our lord [look i finally learned it!]) B squeezed my knee under the table.

The microwave cake I made came out way too dense this time, but that was fine, because it turned out B's aunt brought over chocolate covered strawberries. Dark chocolate, the fancy, no-milk kind. Thank you thank you thank you Aunt Cindy.