Diary of a plant-based eater on a road trip

The vast American landscape is almost begging to be explored by car. Ours is a large country. There are landmarks and storied architecture almost everywhere you go. Crossing the plains or farms or cityscapes reminds one of times past where pilgrims, explorers, those attempting to find Manifest Destiny crossed great stretches of land for something better. Roads and interstates are designed to be easy to follow. Gas stations and motels dot our country. Numerous fast-food restaurants pop up every few miles. Unless you’re driving through the Mojave Desert, you’ll find food anywhere you go in America.

That is, so long as you enjoy meat and dairy.

I’ve been on several long road trips since I was a little girl. Each Christmas and summer we made the two-day trek from Virginia to Minnesota and back. In those days, a good burger or McDonald’s chicken nuggets were a treat; way better than the flavorless slabs of beef my parents prepared at home.

But much has changed for me since my childhood days where I didn’t think at all about the food I ate or where it came from. As I prepared for my first road trip in a long time, I began to dread what the trip would be like. It’s hard enough making sure I have the foods I need to cook plant-based at home. What would traveling outside my bubble be like, especially on the road, on lonely highways with nothing but motels and fast-food restaurants to greet us?

Day 1

I packed as many snacks as I could into our cooler, but still it was much emptier than I would’ve liked. I’d purposely not shopped for food in preparation of our going, but the unintended result was a general lack of snacks – the number one thing to bring on a trip if you’re a plant-based eater. Just about everything we had available in our pantry that I could eat were nuts and pita chips. Not much in the way of protein, or fresh fruit.

My husband, not a plant-based eater, and the primary driver on our expedition, needed a bigger and better lunch than the meager snacks I’d provided. Quite honestly, so did I. Perhaps it was remembrances of past trips, or maybe I was just bored, but I felt unusually hungry.

This is why I said “yes” when my husband picked out a diner somewhere in Connecticut. The restaurant itself was pleasant enough. It had a retro feel to it, as most diners seem to have. The menus were twice as long and wide as a regular sized 8 x 11 sheet of paper, and offered all host of breakfast, lunch, and dinner items. And out of all these there was exactly one vegetarian option. Count it: one! And yes I said vegetarian. The Greek vegetable panini came with heaps of feta cheese, which I’d of course asked for them to keep off (no luck).

Simultaneously I felt both irritated and irritating. I don’t want to be the person that asks for special treatment. But then again, is it so hard to offer non-animal-based meals? Particularly in a diner with just about every other option on the menu?

The evening promised better things. Staying in an historical mansion repurposed into a bed and breakfast located in the downtown of what was once an important steel industry town, several intriguing restaurants popped up in Google maps. I always feel a bit more comfortable in restaurants like these. Perhaps it’s unfair to stereotype, but newer restaurants tend to adapt better to the dining needs of their customers. The place we chose did not disappoint.

Identifying itself as an ‘Asian fusion’ restaurant (though really it was American food with a few Mediterranean and Chinese menu items on it), the appetizer list was chuck full of vegan goodies: fried wild mushrooms, crispy chickpeas with vegan feta cheese, vegetable wontons, a bread plate full of various oils to try.

We tried them all. It was our first day of vacation, after all. The table spread looked like a feast. This is what I’d been hoping for: a chance to see what was new and exciting in the plant-based food landscape. And though it was different from what I might have normally ordered for myself, I was pleasantly surprised by the effort put into each of these dishes.

My husband wasn’t impressed though. To be clear, he supports my decision to eat plant-based and eats everything I prepare for him at home. All of which is to say, he knows a good plant-based meal when he sees one. But seeing his face scrunch, his gaze cast downward, I wondered what on earth could be the matter. ‘Don’t you like it?’ I asked. He replied, ‘It’s fine, but it’s all fried. It’s like they didn’t try at all to make this flavorful.’

I didn’t say anything, for I knew he was absolutely right. I was so blinded by my relief to finally be eating something plant-based that I failed to see (or rather, taste) what I had before me: breading upon breading upon breading. And the thing of it was, these were delicious vegetables they were playing with, but you wouldn’t know it because it was all fried and doused in oil.

Suddenly not as hungry as I’d been before, we left not long after. I was disappointed to say the least, feeling like today was a day to write off in terms of my journey to discover the best that plant-based eating has to offer road trippers.

Day 2

All I can say is, thank goodness for Subway. Traveling through a part of the country my husband deems “Pennsletucky”, the food landscape looked bleak indeed: DQs, Taco Bell, McDonald’s, Kentucky Fried Chicken. Not a single vegetarian option whatsoever. The whole thing felt ironic to me, being as we were surrounded by corn, peas, and other vegetables growing in the farms we passed.

Much as I tried to dissuade my husband from going to Taco Bell, we stopped there anyway (it was attached to a gas and charging station). I almost didn’t see the Subway, tucked behind the street we were on, and unadvertised from the highway signs. But once I saw it, I bolted.

The veggie sandwich isn’t exactly a favorite, but it works in a pinch. And it didn’t let me down this time. I sat there, rejoicing in the pleasure of being able to eat at least something that wasn’t animal-based. Even so, I glared up at the menu. I’d never really had cause to study it much. ‘The Veggie Delight’ has been my order at Subway for almost a decade now (back then I used to order it with Provolone cheese) and I didn’t even see it listed on the menu. To my dismay, just about every other offering was meat-based: meatball sub, turkey deli, chicken teriyaki.

I left feeling full, though a bit dejected. Wasn’t Subway supposed to be the place that offered healthier foods? Hadn’t their original platform been just that, eating there helped one lose weight? None of what they offered seemed even remotely attuned to someone interested in getting their health back on track.

Back in the car and on the road again, I decided to forget about my worries. That evening, I’d be eating a home-cooked meal with my parents, safe in their supporting company and that of their beagle dogs: Riley and Delilah.

Days 3 - 6

Being at home was a welcome breath of fresh air. Somehow everything about Virginia looked clearer, more beautiful, the leaves greener and the sky a clash of orange, yellow, and baby blue.

Of course, being able to eat homemade food was another treat. By the time we’d arrived, I was thoroughly fed up with driving and attempting to find what meager vegan options awaited me on the American road. And yet, eating at home also presented its own challenges.

My parents are both meat eaters, for starters. They understand my eating choices, and while they don’t agree with them, they’re mostly respectful. I say ‘mostly’ because while they fully understand my reasons for not eating dairy (medical reasons at first before I fully understand the horrors of the dairy industry), they don’t fully appreciate the destruction brought on by the meat industry or animal factory farming, what it does to our planet, or the animals sacrificed just so they could have the meal of their choice. And explaining why I wouldn’t simply ‘take a breather’ from my plant-based eating to join them in eating chicken fajitas became something of a monumental task.

You see, even in families like mine, with parents that are quite tolerable, there are issues with diet. I understand where my parents come from. They both grew up (mostly) in the Midwest, were taught that meat was a healthy and necessary food if one wanted to enjoy robust health. They fed me meat and dairy fully believing this was the healthiest way to eat. To try and convince them they were wrong (to say nothing of trying not to make them feel guilty about this) is next to impossible, not with food.

On the last night of my stay, we went to a family-favorite restaurant. Even back when I was a child, I preferred the pasta in marinara sauce to anything else. It was always a comforting thing: regular pasta in tomato-based goodness. And amidst the rest of the meat-infested menu, it didn’t let me down this time.

Day 7

Day seven was another day of driving, this time to the coast, where we were to enjoy a stay on a quiet island with family. For the most part, we preferred cooking at the rental home we frequently stayed in. Much of the island had little in the way of eateries. And yet, odd restaurants kept popping up. Excitingly, a few of them offered some inventive, delectable vegan treats.

Lunch on the road was a boring affair, crackers and coffee, more coffee, the crust of my husband’s papa john’s pizza which I realized too late might’ve been made with eggs, more coffee. But it didn’t matter so much, because I had something to look forward to that evening: a reservation at one of the new island restaurants with a whole section made for their vegetarian and vegan eaters.

And when we finally arrived, recovering from a six-hour drive, I was pleasantly surprised by the breadth of what they offered. The place, unlike much of the island, catered to those with dietary specialty needs. Of this, they added ‘vegan eating’. (Do I really need to be labeled as a ‘special eater’? I thought to myself as I read the menu).

Funnily, the descriptions for the foods were lacking: ‘fishless fish sticks’, ‘captain jack’s sandwich’, ‘Buddha’, ‘Coastal’, ‘SoCal’, etc. with no following descriptions underneath to explain exactly what they meant. I realized with no small amount of irritation that they’d not exactly tried to market any of these supposed delicacies. When asking the waiter about the ‘fishless fish sticks’ and the ‘captain jack’s sandwich’ specifically, one was simply ‘a fish stick, but… soy’, the other a ‘jackfruit sandwich’ (which they were out of that evening).

My optimism quashed, I wondered what had gone wrong. This sort of thing happens quite frequently: a vegan option is listed only for it to sound (and usually be) wildly underwhelming. No wonder people choose the meat and seafood platters. But also, their placement on the menu felt like an after-thought, a way to cater to the one or two vegetarians or vegans that entered their establishment, but without bothering to make it enticing.

While I ultimately would give that meal a C+ grade, I was at least happy they tried, even if nothing about made me anxious to return. None of it was spectacular, nor did it feel as though they were primed to become the next creative outlet for exploring plant-based foods. But it was there, and I supposed I should’ve been grateful for that.

Days 8 - 13

The rest of our time on the island was largely spent enjoying home-made foods, with easy access to things I usually eat and enjoy. The island grocery store even had oat milk ice cream! A chance to make crème de menthe ice cream pie!

Though just about everyone else there ate all the seafood and meat offered, I didn’t begrudge them this. Surrounded by ocean where the seafood couldn’t be fresher, there’s little I’d be able to say to persuade a seafood lover that what they’re doing is contributing to the overfishing problem. And if you weren’t into seafood, no problem: there were plenty of taquerías and pork BBQ food trucks available en route to the beach. Clearly, as I had discovered after just one week outside of my home bubble, the world has proven itself not yet ready for healthy, plant-based offerings.

Or so I told myself. And yet, there were whispers of something changing in the waters. Restaurants offered things on the menu that I hadn’t remembered seeing before. In previous trips, there were certain places that a plant-based eater simply couldn’t dine in – nothing on the menu would’ve been appetizing. But here we were, just a year later, and things had already evolved to include at least one or two (underwhelming) vegan options.

All of this made me feel somewhat confused as to the landscape of food. Is this how change happens? One menu item at a time? Would we come back the next year to find two underwhelming plant-based options? Or will we remain in the realm of ‘special dietary needs’ people? That group of people that certain restaurants feel compelled to offer menu items to without much in the way of inspiration going into their dishes?

Day 14

Our return home was largely the same as our drive down to the south: endless road, fast food chains, gas stations, stiff muscles. Subway. Dunkin Donuts coffee. Pita chips.

I spent the majority of the drive thinking about what this road trip had taught me. I suppose I went into this naïve. The truth is, I happen to be spoiled in my fortune to live in a (at least somewhat) vegan-friendly city. And not having traveled in a while, and certainly not by car, I assumed that the rest of America had also changed to accommodate a variety of diets.

Not only was I wrong, but I wildly underestimated just how few options there are for most Americans. If all you’re ever exposed to is meat, cheese, and more meat, what else would your diet consist of? Vegetables, by comparison, in their cans and jars, look distinctly unappetizing and unfulfilling. Of course plant-based eating sounds crazy!

I also realized, though it’s hard for me to do at times, that I have to soften my thinking. What I oftentimes attribute to a lack of willingness or creativity on the part of food-sellers and your average American eater was in fact a simple lack of resources and knowledge. The lack of knowledge permeated places that even tried to play around with something plant-based. While I can appreciate the effort, it was all too clear how little they knew about what plant-based eating truly entails or how to make it delicious.

The question that remained was: where do we go from here? How do we change people’s opinion on food?

A food journey such as the one I had could easily make a plant-based eater feel dejected and demoralized. But I refuse to think this way. If anything, I feel more invigorated than ever before that my work is important, timely, and more necessary than it’s ever been. Not only does plant-based eating need to look delicious, nutritious, and be advertised appropriately to reflect these qualities, it also has to be available.

The biggest problem, from what I’d seen and experienced, wasn’t that people think negatively about plant-based eaters or the food associated with the diet. They simply don’t understand it. And the reason they don’t understand it is because they’ve not been exposed to it. Let’s face it: plant-based eaters tend to seek out other plant-based eaters. But what about the people that’ve never heard or seen tofu before? Aren’t these the people we should be reaching out to?

My goal is still the same: make plant-based eating doable, delicious, and easy. Offer resources for those just starting their plant-based journey. But I’ll include now, if I can, yet another goal: to broaden my reach and advocate for plant-based eating where it seems least apt to succeed. Because it is in these places that people need our help and advocacy the most.

So for those that aren’t plant-based eaters, or who don’t know much about what we eat, trust me! Plant-based food is delicious. You just don’t know it yet.