When I wrote the title, it flashed a song title in my mind's ear. It is a tune by Cheap Trick that begins, "The Dream Police get inside of my head..." etc. and etc.

Anyway, I get really poohed-off when somebody jumps or jacks my blog posts or comments and tries to damn me for being a meat-eating carnivore. It happens all the time.

I don't begrudge vegans or vegetarians so why do the condemn me?

I believe it is because of an inherent feeling of inadequacy or inferiority that is caused by the lack of good available protein and aminos. Maybe. Maybe not, but I wish they would get off my case.

Once I took out a nice lady to a very exclusive SoCal restaurant. The restaurant was one of my favorites (whenever I had a bit over a hundred bucks to throw at dinner for two.) It was during the long dark nightmare of my separation and divorce, and this lady was a couple of decades younger than me, but that's another story.

We ordered. She asked the waiter if they had gluten-free available and wanted to know how many approximate calories a few of the vegetarian-style dishes contained.

Now, until that evening I had not entertained any member of the food police at my table, so I listened carefully while the waiter fended off her queries with what I expected him to say. He said, simply, "I have no idea, Madame."

She ordered a pasta dish, with a marinara sauce.

I was flabbergasted that she would go for such a cheap item - actually, because this joint was haut couture, it wasn't cheap but relative to the other items it was. I think the tagliatelle was about twenty bucks.

I ordered the item that I always ate there: Veal Saltimbocca, which is a dish of scallopine done with prosciutto on top and drenched in a fine Marsala and butter glaze.

Her beautiful young lips opened and I saw her perfect teeth.

"YOU WILL NOT EAT THAT IN FRONT OF ME!" she said, somewhat agitated.

"Excuse moi?" I replied.

"You must not," she continued in a lower octave, "ever eat veal, for one, and, you should not be ingesting animal protein, ever!"

"But that dish is why I brought you here. I love it."

"Not in front of me, "She repeated.

So I called over our waiter and explained to him. Then I escorted the lady to my car and drove her home.

In a half hour I returned, renewed my order and dined on Saltimbocca alone.

This event has occurred more than once, in slightly different ways. I no longer fail to inquire about a lady's cuisine routines before asking her out. It is also probably one of the many reasons that I prefer to remain a single man.

LOL


Saltimbocca (nom nom nom)