To Chicken or Not To Chicken

My roommate, Melanie, and Drew were both feeling under the weather last week. Instead of DayQuil or tissues they asked me to mix up a big pot of chicken noodle soup so that their bodies could start healing. I have never made chicken noodle soup from scratch before and was excited about making such a classic comfort food for the first time. I googled some recipes for the soup and made an ingredient list compiling many of the elements of different recipes which I deemed worthy.

While Drew and Melanie's dinner was taken care of for the evening my stomach was getting a little concerned at its own prospects for fulfillment. I could just make a big salad for me. However cold lettuce leaves shrivled in my mind's eye next to a steaming pot of soup. I could make the soup with out the chicken (noodle soup?). Hm. I am usually not one to go out and buy pre-packaged imitation meat products but through a small amount of research I learned that Morning Star Farm's Chick'n Strips work wonderfully in no-chicken noodle soup.

While the chicken noodle soup was bubbling away I started a separate pot of the soup and replaced the chicken stock with vegetarian bouillon cubes and chicken with the chick'n. Both soups smelled wonderful and it felt good to be making a dish that would hopefully make my friends feel better. A smile crept on my face as the no-chicken noodle soup hit my tongue and the flavors bounced and played off one another in a subtle way. Drew and Melanie finished two bowls each of the chicken soup and were completely satisfied.

Out of curiosity's sake I asked them to sample a bit of the vegetarian versions of the classic recipe to see how it compared. They were surprised, "Wow, the soup with the chicken was good but this is amazing!".

I must admit, I was a bit surprised by their reaction. They complimented how all of the flavors were balanced and the chick'n strips worked well with the consistency of the noodles and vegetables. Am I a better vegetarian cook, or was it simply that this specific soup was better? I will have to work on my real chicken noodle soup skills; any taste test volunteers?

The Olive Garden of Eden

The promise of "endless salad and breadsticks!" kept repeating in my mind that Monday night as we were driving to our dinner destination: The Olive Garden. My boyfriend Drew and I have both worked in the food industry and pride ourselves on a good palate and decent taste in cuisine. Okay, we just won't tell anyone that we had a strange yet undeniable craving for pasta, salad, and breadsticks that could only be satisfied with a trip to The Olive Garden. All of the other Italian restaurants in town were either too expensive or the food quality was too unpredictable. Plus, even if our entrees were garbage we could at least gorge ourselves on salad and bread. We found a spot in the enormous Wal-Martesque parking lot and made our way through the doors under the sign with the giant olive on it. We dutifully accepted our black, light-up-and-vibrate-when-we-can-sit square and took a seat at the bar. I, deciding that it was a special occasion, ordered a vodka dirty martini and Drew followed suite with a gin and tonic. After a few sips of our cocktails under the overdone italian trellis and ivy decor our black square started squirming around on top of the bar; we have been chosen! We carried our drinks through the dining area and felt our drink choices may have been misplaced amoungst the chairs with wheels and the tables of families with small children. After settling into our table and rolling back and forth in our chairs a few times we ordered another round of drinks and, being the appetizeraholics that we are, ordered the fondita (basically a cheese dip with crostinis). When I took a sip of my fresh martini and ew, it was made with gin. After making my first mixed drink ever around the age of 15 with gin and juice (the Snoop Dogg cover of this song was my only bartending reference) I have since always thought that gin tasted like nail polish remover. I notified the waitress of the drink mix up and she sent it back to the bar for repair. The bartender himself came dashing back to the table and, although he swears he remembers putting vodka in the drink, he apologized and swiftly made me a new drink. A few moments later our waitress came by and informed us that the kitchen accidently burnt our fondita and it would take a few minutes more than expected for the dish to be served. Furthermore, she said that her manager would comp the appetizer for us. As we were discussing how these Olive Gardeners really know how to run a restaurant the manager herself comes to our table to again apologize for the overly-crispy cheese dip. Wow. We started going over other experiences at restaurants, which were 'supossed' to be fine dining. At Coast (on John St.), for example, they sent us out a burnt piece of fish on a $40 paella and we had to ask our snobby waiter for a replacement. Or at Wasabi when we read on the website Chucktownlowdown.com (great place to learn about drink and food specials) that Wednesday was half off hibatchi night only to learn that when our bill came this special was no longer valid. Instead of believing in 'the customer is always right' philosphy and honering the special as it was advertised, we had to pay full price. The manager did not even deem us worthy enough to step out of his secret lair to explain this to us.
The Olive Garden, on the other hand, knows how to run a restuarant. I am not ashamed to yell it from the rooftops that I WENT TO THE OLIVE GARDEN AND I LIKED IT! Our pasta was delicious and the service was impeccable. Our bill came and instead of looking at the total with a half worried, half dumbfounded look on our faces we smiled and figured that we could afford to give our waitress an extra hefty tip.
It is a shame that one cannot go to any restaurant in town and expect the same level of service and food quality and consistency that we found at The Olive Garden.
We left the restaurant with leftovers, full stomachs, and smiles on our faces. Next time, I will have to see if they sell t-shirts.

The Traveling Vegetarian?

Since I am applying to lead an expedition this summer into the indigenous lands of Peru I have been thinking about the effects of being a strict vegetarian abroad. While I spent a semester in Chile I allowed myself to eat local seafood (a habit that I still practice here in Charleston) but still never touched any other meats. In many foriegn countries, Chile included, vegetarianism is considered somewhat strange and most of the time I would have tell my waitor that I was actually allergic to meat. If the chef did not think that I may break out in a rash or have my throat close up not eating meat just did not seem reasonable. Many items on a menu that I thought were definitly vegetarian (guacamole) would come with a little meaty surprise (ham bits) tucked into the dish. A few times I was invited to a new Chilean friend's home for lunch or dinner, only to have to sheepishly point out that vegetarians also do not eat chicken to a surprised host. Many times I would sit around the table with my host family as the devoured beef and pork filled empanadas and stared at my plate of lettuce and sliced egg as though I were simply foolish for not partaking in a food that they thought was clearly better. Best yet, I gained around 20 pounds due to the fact that I would try to fill up on bread and Coke if the only thing on the menu that I could eat was a small plate of shredded cabbage and tomato.
All of these situations could have been avoided if I had simply suspended my beliefs for a few months and delved into the local meat-based dishes that everyone else was eating.
This leaves me with a decision to make in regard to my upcoming trip to the indigenous communities of Peru. Is it okay to leave your vegetarian values behind in the United States because you will probably be more accepted where you are traveling? Because you can avoid awkward situations? Keep a few pounds off?