Let my people go!

Dear Chicken Stock,

Must you always have your way with me? Must you wrap your dirty bone- and muscle-filled little tendrils around my vulnerable vegetarian soul? Can’t you just leave me in peace, existing with my veggie stock and just plain H20? I must beg and plead, from the bottom of my free-range heart, please just let me be.

Sincerely yours,
Meg, Vegetarian, Foodie, and Lover of all things Animal (except not to eat)

So friend invites me over for dinner. We’re having salad and asparagus risotto. She is quite familiar with my food needs, and assures me that all is a go!

So she’s stirring, I’m sitting and sipping, and third friend is standing and chatting. Friend three comments on friend two’s amazing kitchen abilities, and sighs, “boy, I wouldn’t even THINK to keep chicken stock in my house.”

Convo continues….

But then my ears catch that word, “CHICKEN STOCK,” and I start to lean over in my stool. I’m leaning, I’m leaning, trying to catch a glimpse of the image on friend two’s container (is it a chicken? Is it a carrot?) (and which came first, by the way?) and finally friend three starts leaning too, trying to see what the heck all the leaning is for. Friend two finally pauses her stirring, her attention caught by all the leaning, and suddenly says, “DOH!”

But, being the excellent foodie and hostess she is, she keeps a tiny container of veggie stock on hand (I like to think it’s just for me) and starts me my own pot. Aw shucks. I’ve got the best friends.

It was delicious.

She also made this really fab plated salad which consisted of romaine lettuce, blue cheese (DOH AGAIN!) (But I subbed feta), red onions, and a fantastic white balsamic vinaigrette. White balsamic is almost fruity, like an apple or something, and is just to die for.


So the day was saved. But seriously. What is this beast, this monster, this behemoth CS doing to me? LET MY PEOPLE GO!!!!