Dining Out

          Our local Earth Café (an event, not a place) is held once a month, on a Saturday evening in a community space. If you think its name smacks of veganism, you’d be right, though you don’t have to be a committed vegan to eat there: you just need to be open to the principle. So, as one of a growing number of people shifting towards a plant-based diet, I’ve become an enthusiastic participant in its regular suppers.

          I say “participant” and “enthusiastic” because it’s not just about the food. The emphasis is on fostering the sense of community by way of sharing a meal with like-minded others. You pay a fixed but modest price, bring your own booze, choose seats at long, communal tables and go to the counter to be served generously from a limited choice of dishes. The seating arrangement is as flexible and as sociable as you want to make it, especially when the tables are cleared and the meal is followed by announcements, short speeches and, to round things off, live music.

          The experience is the antithesis of fine dining, but not a repudiation of it or, indeed, any other type of restaurant experience. It is different, if only insofar as it might work well as an alternative to dinner parties staged at home. Imagine: no work, disruption and responsibility for the would-be hosts. As for the guests, they would feel less constrained: no need to bring a gift (possibly an inappropriate one); to endure an ill-conceived seating plan and several hours in the company of someone they don’t like; and no potential awkwardness over what the host serves up. Etc.

          Dinner parties at home can, of course, be delightful, but the Earth Café format de-emphasises the complexities of cuisine and social niceties. It serves food in the ancient spirit of sharing and widens the scope for random social connections. And, not coincidentally, the plant-based menu is the ultimate all-rounder when it comes to inclusivity. Is there any creed or religion that forbids it?

          Veganism has been practised since ancient times, though the word itself was coined in 1944 by Donald Watson, a British woodworker. As far as ‘conversion’ to the credo is concerned, it’s not the same for everyone. Some people have an instant revelation and subsequent total adherence to its principles, while others – me included – lurch towards the finish line without ever, perhaps, actually arriving. We compromise, accepting perhaps the logic of the proposition (a more sustainable agri-system) while stopping short at the ethical boundary (not killing animals).

          Anyway, it’s not easy to wean people like me off legacy foods. We need a little encouragement to forsake the familiar tastes and textures integral to our upbringing. Briefly put, the bacon butty beckons at random times and places. Added to which, there is the embedded expectation that the meals on our plates should conform to longstanding, familiar conventions.

          At one of our University of the Third Age (U3A) philosophy discussion sessions, Pythagoras was identified as an early believer in vegetarianism (or veganism lite, as it may be called) but, although the group accepted his logic, when it came to our Christmas social, sausage rolls were the most popular item on the buffet. And further proof that the U3A is not all highbrow, there’s a newly formed group dedicated to performing the Blues. When they saw my interest piqued, they asked if I would like to join. But, alas, my arthritic fingers can no longer navigate the frets on my now redundant guitar (I really don’t know how Keith Richards keeps it up) and they don’t need another vocalist. Maybe I can get them a gig, though – headlining at the Earth Café.