“My girlfriend is vegan and you aren’t giving her vegan food. I don’t care myself. I eat anything.”
“Is she a real vegan?” I ask, slightly accusingly, only realising once it came out of my mouth that this was a strange question
“What’s a real vegan?” he said.
“One that doesn’t say I want vegetarian and then when I go around with seconds says I’ll have some of that vongole?” I tried to explain wearily. “Didn’t the front of house ask you all if you were vegan?”
“Why didn’t you speak up then?”
“We were being English.”
I went out to apologize to the vegan girl.
“I’ve done a special vegan menu for you. I always cater to vegans, but obviously I don’t know what you look like when you book online so…”
It was frustrating because I had separate mushrooms for the vegans with no goats cheese, a special dessert, everything…
The white chocolate, mascarpone, Malibu, raspberry trifle