The Time A Chef Cared

Life is sometimes hard when you’re a vegetarian. Like I’ve mentioned before, I’m iron-compromised a lot. But also, I get discriminated against a lot. 

Especially when you’re the only vegetarian among your friends. 

It’s not fun when you want to catch up with some friends for lunch/dinner or a birthday, and when the question arises about where we should go eat, they give each other the side-eye and say “we have to go somewhere with vegetarian options”… blech. Or they invite you somewhere, saying there are vegetarian options, and you arrive only to find that the “options” are 3 different types of salads. Or something with tofu. 

Like excuse me I am Not a rabbit. And I hate tofu. 

Now I’m not ferociously vegetarian. I don’t tell people they’re going to burn in hell for eating meat or they’re murderers for eating a cheese burger. Everyone has their beliefs, and I have mine. I actually enjoy watching cooking shows and like appreciating how well the chef prepares a filet mignon. And sometimes, I just wish I were non-vegetarian. Just so I wouldn’t have to put up with the discrimination from the carnivores. 

I call the people who are ferociously non-vegetarian ‘carnivores’ because they are the people that cannot contemplate my lifestyle. And make a point of telling me so. The people that go “omggg you have NEVER tried chicken?? Omg you poor thing” “ahh you’ll never live life properly” “you wouldn’t understand about this… It’s so good though. You’re missing out on life” …Like for real? Get over yourselves. It’s just food. No need to be so dramatic. But oh well. I’m used to it. I’m just glad I’m not an overbearing vegetarian.

But anyway, today I had a different experience. Some friends wanted to meet up in a CafĂ© for brunch and I went along. This cafe had hardly any vegetarian options to choose from. 

So I had to do my regular walk of shame to the counter and ask if one of the dishes could be made without the meat. It was this ‘Mexican omelette’ thing that had bacon and chorizo etc. So without those things it was essentially a spinach and mushroom omelette. Which was fine. Better than nothing. And definitely better than salad or tofu.

But when the dish came, the chef came up to me and placed a very colourful omelette in front of me. I looked up at him and he smiled and said “I added some extra vegetables just so it’s a little more interesting. Hope you like It.” 

I could have burst into tears in the middle of that place just then. It was such a thoughtful thing to do and it tasted amazing. I thanked the chef repeatedly. 

He didn’t need to do that. He could’ve just put in less effort and made the bland spinach thing. After all, I was paying the same amount as a full Mexican omelette. And I’m someone who will probably visit this cafe very rarely. I’m not a regular. He didn’t have to care. But he did. He realised I was vegetarian and made the effort to make sure I didn’t feel like the annoying customer I usually do. 

That gesture completely made my day. It’s not that hard to be considerate. He showed me that. I am extremely grateful to him.  


These days, more often than not, I find it difficult to get out of bed. Like in a “I wish I could just sleep all day” way. Which is very weird because I am a notorious early-riser. Holidays or no. I can’t stay in bed for ages. I also can’t stay up very late in the night like other people can, so that can’t be why I lack motivation to get out of bed.

Also, once I have gotten out of my bed, I don’t really have the energy to move around. My mum seems to think I move around like molasses moving uphill.

Eugh why so tired? Holiday laziness?

Well unfortunately, this happens every year. I am in fact, anaemic.

Being female in a certain age range of a certain demographic means my iron levels always seem to jump ship. Yep. Iron deficiency. And yep. This happens all the time.

There’s two ways to deal with this. Head over to my GP who will send me to the vampires for the blood test to confirm that which I already know and have had done repeatedly. And then receive the prescription for the annoying little red iron pills that I must continue to take for 3 months before returning for another prick to make sure the levels have gone up.

The second way to deal with it, is apathy. I’ll just stay tired. It takes less effort. Which has been fine since last year when I was so completely fed up with my GP pricking me over and over I just said to hell with it and refused to pick up my iron tablets. I survived. Uni is a good distraction. I don’t got time to be tired. I gotta keep moving. So when I’m tired during my holidays, it doesn’t really bother me. My iron can correct itself eventually.

Which it does, don’t worry.

My mum told me to chug some vitamin pills. “Vitamin C helps iron absorption” she says. Which is true, but being vegetarian means that I am terminally prone to having the useless kind of iron in my diet. Ie. Even if I ate 10 pounds of capsicums (for vitamin C) and 10 pounds of spinach everyday, I’d still have less iron absorbed in my blood than someone working through their beef steak on the BBQ. Oh the woes of vegetarianism.

Meh. I choose apathy until my iron sorts itself out and I get my energy back. Good thing I’m on holidays. I will just continue to stay in bed. ^^ Bright side to everything.