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Happy. Meal.

February 17, 2011

Special Meal ~ that’s me, 37A VGML.  I started ordering special meals when flying to avoid the mysterious and potentially revolting meat dishes.  “Chicken or Beef.”  Mm hm, if you say so.  It was usually the ovo-lacto vegetarian meal, BYO dessert since the Vegetarian meals are frequently also the Low Cal, Low Cholesterol, and Low Fat options.  But then I saw Non-dairy Hindu Vegetarian.  Hmm, if I’m striving toward being vegetarian out of my concern for the creatures involved, “ovo-lacto” tells the airline and the catering company that I don’t care about the provenance of their eggs or how their laying hens and milk cows are treated.  No question if I’m trying to make a statement and stand by my ethics, the Ovo-Lacto is out.

So, my first Non-Dairy Hindu Vegetarian Meal arrived on the tray table: green salad, bread, margarine, fruit, and under the foil cover? Very plain-looking white rice on one end and steamed vegetables on the other.  <gulp>  But it’s the compassionate thing to do and I can feel good about eating it, right?  <taste> Mmm?  The vegetables were stir-fried, but so lightly as to have no visible oil and retain their bright color, seasoned too.  Joy!  Mixed with their very white rice, the whole thing was tasty enough to get me thinking about the huge new wok at home, which has been intimidating me since Christmas.

Knowing there was chocolate in my bag, I uncovered the fruit “dessert.”  It’s usually a few sections of citrus, grapes with seeds, and apple pieces of unpredictable mealiness.  This was 2 slices of melon (honeydew and cantaloupe), a piece of ripe kiwi, and blueberries!

Fed, pleased with the whole exercise, and uncovetous of the brownie on the other trays, I lay over gratefully onto the empty seat beside me, curled up, and tried to sleep for the next eight hours.

(Full disclosure: this was written Sunday 13 February, but for the sake of tone and flow, will appear after Angry.  Apologies for the lack of photo documentation.  I’m still not good at having a camera to hand when I want it.)

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