Three months into my vegan experiment, I hit a snag. Staying at my mum’s house for a weekend, I found myself completely unable to ‘come out’ as a vegan, and so simply ate the ‘special cheese’ and butter she had laid in for me. What does this say about me? That my commitment to veganism isn’t strong enough to make me deserving of the name? That I’m embarrassed to be a vegan? That I consider accepting my mother’s hospitality with good grace more important than sticking to my dietary principles? Yes, probably all these, and more.

I ate the cheese, and the butter, and it was interesting. I didn’t ...


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