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Articles and Information
Sizzle Without the Steak? It’s OK at the Corral!
by James M. Neeland
Ken looked at me, puzzled. Perhaps his blood sugar was sending down its last few grains of sand through his metabolic hourglass. That would account for the look. Not to mention it was about 95 degrees in the shade, which felt more like 105 degrees in a car with an A/C that runs only when bribed with sweets.
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Still Ken looked, finally asking, "You want to eat there?" It sounded so ominous. A hint of danger, a note of despair.
"Yes,” I responded, "I want to try Sunday lunch at a steakhouse."
Now, cut to the poor synapses in my brain running-over each other, trying to process this message. Let me clarify- I am a vegan, with occasional “dip-my-big-toe-into-a-vat-of-dairy” tendencies. Like, say, Christmas. My birthday. It's not that I can't do entirely without animal foods, nor do I consider things like cheese to be exalted delicacies to be savored only on special occasions. I just do a little dipping sometimes, 'tis all. Nothing heavy. (I must confess, though, that my body functions much cleaner without any animal foods.)
So, here's the vegan telling his partner that their ritual Sunday-out-on-the-town-lunch will take place at a steakhouse. After dinner, maybe a little fox hunting, round-off the day. Kidding, folks! Previously, I told our readers how not to be the "Odd Bird Out" at holiday gatherings, mostly by bringing your own food. Now, I was to be at the mercy of someone else's touch, in a place where animals are served-up faster than smiles at EuroDisney. Remember that inclusion is the key. One food choice may be more enlightened than the other, but that doesn’t make any one diner a better person than the other. No snobbery. We all want to sit at the same table. With those gracious notions in mind, Ken and I walked into the restaurant.
When we entered, we were greeted warmly by a young gentleman, who asked, "Table for two?" to which we affirmed. (I'm always tempted to respond, "Yes, two...hundred. Didn't the White House fax the advance?!") This restaurant is called DAKOTA, in Rocky Hill, CT, one hamlet over from our condo. Nicely done facade. All earthy, very lodge-like. Just looking at the building, one can feel a campfire and a ghost story coming on. The inside is pretty cool, too. Very woodsy. Nice braided rugs here and there. Clean and comfortable. Surrounding me, though, were all things mammalian, as decorative motif. Deep breath. Hey, you're in Rome, and when in Rome…
Ken, my meat-eating partner, was still perplexed. He was probably wondering how I was going to get my money's worth out of two plain baked potatoes, as had been my lot at many other places. Not to worry, though, as our waitress, a very cute and quick young lady named Tricia, gave us the low-down on DAKOTA's extensive salad bar. (Hmmm. Light bulbs, light bulbs.) She also explained that any full entree came with a "starch." Choices were rice, baked potato or mashed potato, all made to order. So, I could have mashed potatoes made without butter or dairy? True. Hey, things were looking up. Rice with vegetable oil instead of butter? Rice without oil or butter? Yes, these requests were among the doable.
Also, let me tell you about the basket of complimentary bread brought to our table. It was thick whole-grain bread, rich with molasses. Not too dark or sweet, just right. Sunflower seeds had been strewn throughout the batter for texture. Very delicious. I could have eaten just the bread and split. But, I really couldn't have done that. My joy over the bread was tempered by the realization that every table had been given this bounty and not just ours. And here I thought we were special. (Editor’s note: Make sure to double check with your server that the bread is free of those all-too-common animal-based ingredients.)
Upon scanning the menu, I noticed that the four vegetable dishes listed as side dishes were, collectively, the price of one entree. Hey, Tricia, might I be able to have these four side dishes combined as one entree, allowing me to partake of the salad bar? In a flash, Tricia was back with the answer. (I said she was quick.) The manager would allow that. Great! Now, could we handle a few other adjustments? Un-cream the spinach, and simply sauté it in oil or vegetable broth? Leave the butter off the corn-on-the-cob? Sauté the mushrooms in oil or vegetable broth, no butter? Steam or blanche the broccoli spears, leave any butter out of the walnut butter sauce? Can you come to my home tomorrow night and make this same meal? All of the answers to my questions were affirmative (actually a bright "Ye-es!") except for one, about which I'll leave you hanging.
Entree in place, it was time to attack the salad bar. Salad bars are everywhere. Most don't vary, but the salad bar at the DAKOTA was different. Broccoli slaw? I had never had that outside of home. It was delicious. Fresh green and red cabbage, shredded with oil and vinegar and loads of herbs. Fresh peas and beets. Freshly-blanched broccoli and cauliflower florets. I can't overuse the word fresh here, for this bar was one to belly-up to. Lettuce, spinach, tomato, cukes, sure-sure. Hey, I don't knock 'em, I eat 'em. I just want to point out things folks don't normally see at a salad bar, like a great selection of nuts and seeds, good bread sticks and crisp breads. Again, all very earthy, woodsy. (Yes, I believe in Bigfoot. I do. I would take him here for lunch or supper.)
I must admit I had nearly three plates of salad. Yes, I did not finish plate number 2 all the way, and for that, I will donate an extra $5.00 to the Sierra Club. But with the bread ("another basket, please") and all those greens and seeds and nuts and things of the cruciferous bent, I felt as if I were partaking of some veggie banquet. Kind of like feasting with Henry the Eighth after some PETA conversion. Could you picture it? Half a cabbage in his hand, rows of servants ushering in one platter of greens after the other? He may have even been in a better mood, sparing the lives of a number of women. Henry? I wasn't there yet. I would know better once the entrees arrived.
And they did. The corn was sweet and delicious, while the spinach was peppery and somewhat smoky. The bright green broccoli florets were dripping with warm, melty walnut sauce, and the sautéed mushrooms were nice and salty and very juicy. Oh, by the way, Ken liked his dinner too, something slightly less vegan, but hey, we're doing VEGGIE here! Seriously, though, as I've written before, meat eaters and vegans can break bread together. That's the goal here.
All things considered, my meal at DAKOTA was outstanding, and I asked Tricia to thank the manager for making it so; from allowing four veggie sides as one entree, to making sure my veggie sides/entree were prepared as I wanted them. The general manager, Mr. Charles Cornell, a really friendly guy, spoke with us at our table, thanking us for our consideration and for choosing DAKOTA. Which we will again, for this is one place where vegans need not fear to roam.
James M. Neeland began his vegetarian journey in 1997, evolving into a full-fledged vegan in 2002. He lives in central Connecticut with his (meat-eating) partner Kenneth and their eight year old feline Bibs, in the heart of old, yet progressive, New England.
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