Losing My Veganity in Key West

As a vegan, I’ve ordered omelets hold the eggs (because otherwise I tend to get steamed vegetables for breakfast when I actually want fried ones), had many a B.L.T. and asked to hold the bacon and the mayo, and requested shrimp scampi with the shrimp on the side (a vegan the Brawny Sherpa is not). I’ve explained to astounded Russian servers that ‘vegan’ means no chicken, no beef, no fish, no eggs, no cheese. I’ve asked translators to tell Swiss chefs that I want rice with no butter.

There are just some times when I get tired of being a pain in the neck when I enter a restaurant. I don’t really want to answer more questions about why I eat what I do (a yucky skin condition tends to be much diminished the fewer animal products I consume), or talk about why I wear leather shoes when I won’t eat beef (I shouldn’t, but nonleather choices are too few), or explain that sometimes, yes, I do miss beef and lobster (but never chicken or fish), so much so that I actually have a bite or two of them. I’m a vegan, but not one without sin.

Because I get tired of drawing attention to myself over my food issues, anymore, when eating out, I don’t always split hairs over whether something might have touched a bit of butter rather than olive oil. I realize those shrimp were probably swimming with my sauce before being presented to me. So when the Brawny Sherpa and I vacation in Key West, I fall off the vegan wagon for a bit. If a vegan restaurant happens to throw itself at me, I’ll walk in. One doesn’t.

For my time in the Florida Keys, I’ll be a flexitarian. I’ll still stick mostly to vegetables, but if animal products like honey or egg or dairy work their way in, I won’t sweat them. I’ll even have a bite or two or four of the Brawny Sherpa’s lobster mac and cheese. I’ll remain an herbivore at heart on this vacation, but won’t castigate myself for being just a bit omnivorous. In short, I’ll enjoy myself.

For breakfast one morning, the Brawny Sherpa and I are lured by the sight of crepes into the Banana Café at 1215 Duval Street. There are three cheeses in mine. Our morning there is so good we decide to return that evening where I order, somewhat lackadaisically, the roasted root vegetable fricassee—which turns out to be so good I actually want to lick my plate.

Another day we dine on the veranda of Bagatelle at 115 Duval, where I pretend I’m a member of the Key West Woman’s Club and sip a lemonade spiked with limoncello before being herbivorously correct with some well-prepared veggies and not so with some of the Brawny Sherpa’s lobster mac and cheese. I’m almost as sinful when we share a slice of key lime pie afterward while listening to the very compelling vocalist singing at the Hog’s Breath Saloon across the street.

I first visited Bagatelle long before I became a lapsed vegan, or even a vegetarian. Drawn by an entry in an old guidebook describing it as a “shining star in the firmament of restaurants in Key West” and longing for “the antique atmosphere of an old conch house”(Marylyn Springer & Donald Schultz, Frommer’s Florida (1990), at 129), I wasn’t let down by a book that kept its promise. (On that long ago trip, that same guide also led me to Island City Guest House, still a fine choice.)

Disinclined to plan ahead while we are vacationing, we are led on one dark night by a sign promising Mexican food to Salsa Loca at 411 Petronia Street where we savor sweet iced tea and enchiladas. The one night we do make reservations, we go to Nine One Five, a place whose address we can remember: 915 Duval Street. The food here is so good that they sell out of it; no gnocchi for me the night we are there, or my first vegetable choice. I do discover the joy of ice wine with my cheese course, though.

I lost my vegan powers for the duration of my trip, but I enjoyed eating in Key West.

Note from the Brawny Sherpa: My cheap date turned into an expensive one on this trip. Lobster mac and cheese is a little more pricey than Brussels sprouts.

—Lori Tripoli