Wednesday, November 13, 2019 // The Statement
4B
5B
Wednesday, November 13, 2019 // The Statement

T

he old adage goes, “You eat with your eyes first.” 
This happened to be the case for my mom when 
she skimmed the Food Network magazine and 
discovered a picture of cookies that looked irresistible. With 
gooey chocolate chunks and crunchy oat flakes, they were 
worthy of a “phone eats first” Instagram post. She immediately 
turned the page for the recipe, which read “Vegan Cowgirl 
Cookies.” Vegan. She didn’t even know what that meant, but 
she was curious about vegan baking and compelled to try this 
recipe. After sampling her final results, she decided that they 
tasted “legit.”
Before “Vegan Cowgirl Cookies,” I hadn’t given the 
legitimacy of veganism or plant-based diets much thought. 
When my second grade gym teacher reviewed the food 
pyramid and taught us the importance of a balanced diet, 
including the staples of meat, dairy, grains etc, the word vegan 
wasn’t mentioned once. 
Upon hearing someone call themselves vegan, my knowledge 
of the colored food pyramid grounded my initial impression: a 
vegan diet was a flawed nutritional lifestyle. I was under the 
impression that a strong sentiment for animal rights was the 
only thing that drove people to become vegan. 
When my younger sister, Tatum, returned home from her 
freshman year at Columbia University and declared she was 
vegan, I watched her choose not to consume any meat or 
animal products (poultry, fish, eggs, milk, cheese, gelatin) or 
even purchase any animal byproducts, such as leather clothing.
Slight chaos ensued in our household thereafter. Tatum’s 

vegan options took up too much space in the freezer and 
she’d inconveniently make her own meals concurrent with 
my mom’s dinner preparations, leaving a mess in the kitchen. 
At the family dinner table, my other sister Geena, an avid, 
unapologetic steak lover, would comically fight with Tatum 
over their respective food choices. As for me, I was confused 
why Tatum would eat all these “imitation,” or alternative 
products — all of which contained ingredients that seemed so 
fake, unnatural and unhealthy. 
Nothing was more complicated than deciding what 
restaurant to eat at as a family. Even though Tatum vowed she 
could find something to eat on any menu, we’d still cater our 
restaurant choice to meet her dietary restrictions. One could 
say veganism caused some beef in the Meyhoefer household.
Despite our mealtime dilemmas and the occasional joke, 
our family was respectful and accommodating of Tatum’s 
lifestyle choices but it still took us a while before completely 
understanding the reasoning behind them. To be fair, Tatum 
didn’t want to cause any inconvenience: She didn’t want to 
act arrogantly about her view or appear high maintenance, 
conscious of the way some vegans are perceived in society. 
At one point, Tatum explained how she physically felt better 
based on what she was eating. The logic of that reasoning for 
a vegan lifestyle piqued my attention and made me think how 
the ethical sense of veganism merges with the physical sense. 
Tatum mentioned how she now has more energy after meals as 
well as how she is less stressed in regards to what she eats, since 
it is now in line with her beliefs. Eating clean isn’t necessarily 

the same as eating healthy.
The inner “foodie” in me is 
always excited by the opportunity 
to try new foods and restaurants, 
so I adjusted to my rationale on 
what I thought was restrictive 
about veganism and embraced the 
possibility of the new foods I could 
expose myself to and now include 
in my diet. With an academic’s 
mind and adventurous spirit — I 
hit the books and went grocery 
shopping.
After scouring a multitude of 
websites on the internet, I began 
to unravel the layers of veganism. 
Someone’s reasoning for living a 
vegan lifestyle could range from 
ethical, to religious, to health, 
to sustainability reasons. I was 
primarily drawn to the subset of environmental veganism; 
I was astonished by the environmental implications of a 
plant-based diet, especially with the recent devastation 
of the Amazon. In alignment with that revelation, studies 
have revealed correlations between raising animals and the 
exertion of resources such as water, land and greenhouse 
gases. Some studies go even further, claiming a vegan diet is 
“essential” to avoid climate change. My research also yielded 
information on how large of a spectrum veganism is in regards 
to the environmental impact of meat and dairy production. 
Veganism is nuanced in this way, since no two vegan lifestyles 
look the same. The term “vegan” is nebulous, and the intensity 
of a vegan lifestyle may vary given it is an individual decision. 
Honey, for instance, is contentiously debated among vegans as 
to whether or not it should be avoided.
Whether or not I chose to eat vegan at a particular meal, 
I became intrigued by the ingredients of what I consumed 
and where they were being sourced. To me, veganism is 
substantiated on the knowledge of where and how products are 
sourced, rather than a list of what one can and cannot consume. 
I’m reminded of the chickens in my friend’s backyard, whose 
eggs would not technically fit into the plant-based category yet 
are ethically sourced and humanely harvested. Alternatively, a 
product such as coffee, which is undeniably plant-based, could 
be deemed unethical when grown on deforested rainforests 
that emit higher greenhouse gases compared to coffee grown 

on suitable land under sustainable practices.
Veganism isn’t all salads and tofu. With the rise of plant-
based alternatives, including Beyond Meat and Daiya “cheese,” 
it’s easy to assume veganism is merely a trend. However, a 
closer look at the history of veganism reveals otherwise. Diets 
like veganism have ties back to over 2,000 years ago in eastern 
Mediterranean and ancient Indian societies, who resorted to 
plant-based food for religious and philosophical intentions. 
The term “vegetarian” was later coined in the mid-1800s and 
in November 1944, Donald Watson established the Vegan 
Society, in which an early definition of modern veganism 
originated. The definition has since been slightly modified and 
eventually grew into how veganism is thought of today. 
Inevitably with my deepened understanding of veganism, 
when returning to campus in September for my senior year, 
one of my first stops was The Lunch Room, a popular vegan 
spot in Ann Arbor. As I was enjoying every bite of my vegan 
pad thai, I couldn’t help but take in the atmosphere and 
overhear the conversations around me. Their welcoming staff 
seemed to attract all demographics and the tables were filled 
with families, students, first dates and old friends catching up. 
Comments on the food casually slipped into the conversation, 
whether it was simply on how tasty the food was or how they 
couldn’t believe the mac and “cheese” was vegan. And, of 
course, I caught others taking pictures of their food, myself 
guilty of doing so too. 
Phillis Engelbert and Joel Panozzo, co-owners of The Lunch 
Room and Detroit Filling Station restaurants, epitomize the 
unifying dynamic of veganism in the hospitality industry. 
“The restaurant is sort of a combination of vegan diet and 
cooking, plus community organizing, plus liking to plan and 
have parties,” Engelbert said. When describing the extensive 
range of people the restaurant entertains, quite literally with 
live music events, Engelbert added, “Vegans are probably a 
small minority of our customer base.”
As much as I agree and support such a lifestyle that leaves 
a greener footprint, I am still perplexed by how veganism fits 
into other narratives of society. Food is a language of its own; 
food speaks to us when we don’t know what to say. Similar 
to how some cultures or religions refrain from meat, specific 
foods are expected in the traditions of other cultures. In my 
Italian background at least, Thanksgiving isn’t complete until 
Grandma Francine’s meatballs and mostaccioli are on the 
table. 
Also on the issue of a vegan lifestyle, I’m an advocate for 
listening to one’s own body — even if that encompasses the 

need to consume non-vegan foods or products. For instance, 
certain individuals have blood types that recommend a higher 
meat or dairy intake. Additionally, most vegan alternatives rely 
heavily on soy ingredients. In that case, for individuals with soy 
or gluten allergies and medical conditions, a completely vegan 
diet may not be realistic. Veganism also brings up questions 
of accessibility to everyone on the basis of food inequalities. 
Especially in today’s society of “diet culture” and the “wellness 
industry” there is also an underlying pressure to make food 
decisions not based on biological instincts, but rather through 
guilt based on what people eat or don’t eat.
So where does this leave me now? Vegan? Flexitarian? 
Pescetarian? Non-vegan? “Naughty” vegan? In all honesty, 
I’m not sure. But, I like knowing that I can make a 
marginal environmental impact with some of my efforts to 
reduce meat and dairy intake. I find satisfaction in opting 
for vegan alternatives, especially with today’s luxuries of 
so many options, even in the milk aisle alone. However, 
given the multi-dimensionality to veganism, there doesn’t 
need to be any identities or labels assigned to it that would 
continue to perpetuate 
stigmas and divisiveness. 
I suppose I’m taking 
a stance on no stance; I 
may sound hypocritical 
as a non-vegan in support 
of veganism, but I like 
to think my awareness 
counts for something. 
I’m 
still 
hungry 
for 
knowledge, 
though, 
and when it comes to 
learning, one can never 
be overly satiated. 
But really, who am I to 
tell anyone what to do or 
eat or not eat? I realize 
not everyone will be 
stocking their freezers 
with veggie burgers and 
Ben and Jerry’s vegan ice 
cream after reading this, 
but I like to hope there’s 
some take away from 
my 
own 
meandering 

conclusions about veganism – even if it’s one less eye roll 
upon the mention of someone saying they’re vegan. 
Or it could be an open door to another way of thinking 
about sustainability efforts; such as, but not confined to, 
limiting one’s single-use plastics, cleaning the beaches of 
trash, planting a tree, composting or simply remembering 
to turn off the light when leaving a room. Sustainability 
looks different for everyone, but regardless of what one 
brings to the table it all makes a difference. 
By the end of the summer, my family learned how to 
agree to disagree. We visited vegan-only restaurants 
as well as steak restaurants that included a tasty vegan 
alternative on their menus. If Geena and Tatum can get 
along over veganism, and if restaurants like the Detroit 
Filling Station can find success in their communities, I 
think veganism can be more unifying than people imagine. 
And whether you’ve labeled yourself vegan, not vegan, 
somewhere or nowhere in between, my mom’s vegan 
cookies are incontestably a favorite. So, I leave you with 
some food for thought:

BY REECE MEYHOEFER, 
SENIOR COPY EDITOR

FOOD
FOR
THOUGHT

PHOTOS BY DANYEL THARAKAN

ILLUSTRATION BY JONATHAN WALSH

