"You Don't Eat Fish? But I Thought You Were Vegetarian."
Let's see, a highly regarded seafood restaurant. I guess I could have, oh, the Mixed Green Salad with House Dressing and, um, dessert. I wrote him back in my usual bending-over-backwards-to-be-self-deprecating way and said I hate to be that troublesome vegetarian, but . . .
This guy knows I don't eat meat. I've been vegetarian for as long as I've worked with him -- seven years. He's just one of those people who literally cannot imagine a meal without meat. He reminds me of another coworker, who at a holiday lunch a few years ago at the fabulous and veggie-friendly Mediterranean mezze restaurant Zaytinya, passed me a fish plate and, when I declined, said, "You don't eat fish?" I said, "No, I'm vegetarian." She said, "I know, but I thought vegetarians ate fish." I said, "Well, some people who call themselves vegetarians do, but I don't." Then we got into the always interesting and original "how do you get protein?" discussion. For the thousandth time.
So anyway, tomorrow my former coworker and I will eat instead at the very pleasant and yummy David Greggory, where my favorite entree -- actually, one of my favorite vegetarian dishes anywhere -- is the Portobello Milanese with Smoked Red Pepper Sauce, Orzo and Squash Blossoms; my favorite dessert (again, one of the best anywhere) is the Tres Leches Cake with Caramelized Bananas.