Old friends came to dinner last night and I was all ready to roast a beef and braise some veg with a side of roasted potatoes and a side of mash with a trifle for the pudding except they don’t eat the beef bit anymore.
Why is it that even for those of us who could own the Eat More Vegetable Soap Box if squatters’ rights had anything to do with it, are mowed down like a weak blade of fresh grass the minute somebody says “I’m only eating plant based foods right now.”
What is so difficult about that? They eat wheat for goodness sake. When people found out that my mother stopped buying meat they would look at me for a long time, the way you look at weird things in a fish tank and then would ask me “what do you eat?”
Surely we are beyond that now.
I am not.
If I am feeding other people, I Admit It. I am completely dependent on meat, poultry fish or cheese to feel like confident in preparing a meal.
Thank goodness I love them and couldn’t ask them to eat before they came.
We started with borscht. The color alone is enough to wake up the table.
I made pasta with fresh artichokes, mushrooms and leeks.
For the main: slowly simmered cannellini tossed with garlicky sauteed escarole.
I had no idea whatsoever about the dessert; I served grapes.