OUTSIDE THE BOX
Vegan Christmas
Christmas – the celebration that brings everyone together – is here again. However, if you look closely, you’ll notice that it’s very rarely the time of peace and contemplation that it’s meant to be. In the supermarkets’ overflowing freezer aisles, crowds of stressed people fight over the last fattened geese or turkeys, buttery biscuits are bought to feed the hungry gaggle at home, and the present-buying process (along with the tonnes of packaging its hysteria incurs) mutates into a last-minute emergency operation after which all the ribbons and wrapping paper end up in the trash.
And in the midst of all this chaos, my mother (who is hosting Christmas for all the family this year) asks me glibly whether vegans like me even celebrate Christmas any more – after all, there are so many things we can’t eat, and Santa’s sleigh isn’t exactly powered by plant-based biofuel (!). Smiling from ear to ear, I reply that vegans like me are especially compatible with Christmas, as we care not only about humans being able to stuff their faces – but also (and above all) about the wellbeing of animals and that of the whole planet. My mother promptly starts googling “vegan side dishes”, during which she needs two glasses of brandy to calm her nerves.
„yummy food doesn’t need to have eyes“
I take her hand to calm her down, and explain that there’s much more to vegan food than sad-looking lettuce leaves and tomato slices. I suggest that she can gladly go ahead with her traditional Christmas menu for Dad, Gran and my sisters (who are both really into their meat), but that I should just be allowed to bring my own meal with me. I also make one small request: that Christmas Day should be a time of acceptance and respect when we don’t necessarily have to talk about veganism, seeing as in the past, I have had to put up with being told things like “when you think about it, you’re eating the food that my food should be eating.” In quiet satisfaction about the pact I had managed to strike with my family, I said goodbye and started planning Operation “yummy food doesn’t need to have eyes”.
family dirigence of the cooking spoon
A few days later, when the Christmas meal was served up to the family, the star of the table was my opulent three-course menu of cream of chestnut soup with puff pastry straws, lentil roast with mashed potatoes and Brussels sprouts, and Christmas cookie spiced mousse on a raspberry coulis. Not only could my family not believe their eyes – they attacked the extra food I had brought with me like a pride of lions – and proceeded to polish off every last mouthful! There was plenty of eating, laughter and hugging, and everyone was happy.
My mother’s Christmas goose, which had seen better days after being left in the oven a little too long, was almost forgotten about. The cherry on top was everyone deciding that next year, they’d like me to host Christmas! All I can say is: bring on next Christmas!
