Waiter, There’s A Moral Dilemma In My Lunch!

I did a very bad thing. No, not recently. It must have been seven or eight years ago. It happened at the end of a shopping trip in Brent Cross, North London. After trudging through the aisles like two people who only ever go shopping when they absolutely have to, my friend and I decided to reward ourselves with a nice lunch at Wagamama, which, back then, was still quite a hip chain of Asian fusion cuisine.

I’d eaten there a few times before, but my friend hadn’t, so I recommended a tasty stir fry, which she duly ordered. I can’t remember what I had, but I do remember that I only enjoyed the first two forkfuls of it because of what ensued.

The food arrived, looking all fresh, healthy and delicious. We started to tuck in.

“Oooooh! Yummmmmm!” My friend’s eyes grew wide and then closed slowly as she slipped into a trance of eating pleasure. “This is just the best tofu I have ever tasted in my whole damn life!”

My cardiac activity seized for a few seconds.

This was not tofu.

I had forgotten to tell her to substitute the chicken.

My friend had been a faithful vegetarian for the past quarter of a century. Until 40 seconds ago. How could I have made such a terrible mistake?

She clearly had no inkling that there was anything amiss. And why would she? After all, she was having lunch with no other than moi, a professional nutritionist attuned to people’s special dietary requirements.

I kept smiling as convincingly as I could muster while trying to make all the right food appreciation noises – no easy feat when your airways are constricting.

What was I to do?! My panicked monkey mind went into overdrive. Coming clean about my oversight and apologising profusely would probably be the right thing to do. But what good could possibly come of it? Lunch would be ruined, a good meal wasted. Right now, at least one of us was still enjoying it.

In fact, I’d never seen anyone take such delight in their food. For a fleeting moment, I wondered how someone, who went that gaga over some run-of-the-mill strips of chicken breast would react to a juicy slab of beef teriyaki or a soft-as-butter, slow-roasted lamb shank.

Nobody was being harmed here, I reasoned to myself. This was not a case of food allergy. (If anyone was experiencing all the symptoms of anaphylactic shock, it was me!) And the chicken had already been very dead for quite some time. I was, in fact, not only saving my friend’s stellar lunch experience, but also an animal from having given its life in vain. And it could have been worse – that could have been pork there on that plate. (My friend was not only vegetarian, but also Jewish.)

At this point, she turned to one of the servers who was rushing by, balancing several steaming bowls of ramen on his tray. “Hey, I just loooooove your tofu! So chewy! How do you get it to have a texture like that? Could I talk to the chef? I need that recipe!” (My friend was not only vegetarian and Jewish, but also American).

The bed of coals I was sitting on had just got hotter by another thousand degrees.

Coals

The waiter, a pimply young man on the minimum wage, flashed a flattered smile in my friend’s direction, but he did not – to my infinite relief! – relay her request for a personal audience to the chef, who was up to his armpits assembling meals for the lunchtime crowd.

After what seemed like an eternity, during which I remained hell-bent on engaging my friend in spurious conversation to draw her attention away from both the “tofu” and the wait staff, we finally cleared our plates.

“Hey, how about dessert?”, I asked, staring longingly at the door. “But not here, you know what these Asian places are like – crap sweets.” A blatant lie, at least where Wagamama is concerned. But I had no intention of prolonging this torture.

We paid and I leapt into the neon lit mall, which, at that moment, appeared to me as welcoming as a fragrant spring meadow populated by purring kittens. We headed straight for Millie’s Cookies. And never has a box of hydrogenated fat, sugar and food colouring washed down with coffee from a paper cup tasted so good.

Jane, if you’re reading this, I’m really, really sorry!

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34 thoughts on “Waiter, There’s A Moral Dilemma In My Lunch!

  1. Trippmadam

    This reminds of the day when my sister, a fantastic cook, invited about 20 people to dinner.Two thirds of them were self-proclaimed vegetarians. She duly prepared a big pot of vegetarian food and a smaller pot with meat in it. Unfortunately, all the vegetarians decided to become carnivores for an evening. My faith in vegetarians was somewhat shattered that day.

    Liked by 3 people

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  2. Carissa Hickling

    Well I’m not really a ‘flexetarian’ just more of a pesky ‘pescetarian’ than a true ‘vegetarian’… however there have over the years been a few ‘Whoops! This sure doesn’t seem to be mock duck / tofurkey, etc” Me? I don’t freak just accept and go back to my veggies. 😉 However I’ve met some rather militant veg heads that you would make you think they were just poisoned if accidentally a morsel of meat passed their lips! Sheesh!!!

    Liked by 1 person

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      1. Kim G

        Of course you’ve now confessed here in eternal print. But you could certainly have feigned ignorance if challenged. After all, your friend presumably was able to read the menu too. How is this your fault? Even if you are an expert, as a vegetarian she surely must be aware that she needs to be vigilant in restaurants.

        I think you’re off the hook.

        Saludos,

        Kim G
        CDMX, México
        Which is about the only part of this country where you could conceivably maintain a vegetarian diet and still eat out.

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Kim in Fiji

    Ha ha ha ha ha. I read all the comments to see if “Jane” ever replied. Since she hasn’t, allow me to do the honours: Simone, dear, in spite of the massive heartburn I have had since our lunch 8 years ago, I will be happy to forgive you as soon as you come drink my 20 ounce spirluna-yeast-organic prune smoothie.

    Liked by 2 people

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  4. roughseasinthemed

    Us veggies can make our own mistakes without you helping! My classics have been forgetting that ravioli isn’t vegetarian, ordering some berenjena dish without asking what was in it, and trying to pick shredded chicken out of yet another Italian meal that I hadn’t checked properly. All. My. Fault.

    But the difficult one was in Greece. We were given a lift and swept into the family lunch. Fine Greek salad. No problem. But they didn’t stop there, fish and lamb followed. He took the lamb, I took the fish. It was sort of like Jane in reverse, no need to offend our hosts.no, we didn’t enjoy the fish and lamb before you ask.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
      1. roughseasinthemed

        Nah, Spain’s not that bad. Just need to find the right places. Málaga, Los Boliches, Tarragona, Valencia have all produced decent restaurants. Eating out in Greece was good too, it was just that one family meal we didn’t get right. Shit happens.

        Liked by 1 person

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