Surviving the Salad Bar

More Vegan Eating Tips

I don’t know about you but I’m less than thrilled when someone suggests going to a restaurant with a “huge salad bar.” The reason isn’t that I don’t care for salad, in fact I love salad. It’s that a meat eater’s idea of a great salad bar and my ideal salad bar differ greatly. And if we’re going to a steak house with a salad bar, just guess who designed and filled the salad bar. That’s right, the person whose idea of a complete menu is six different types of grilled cow flesh.

Oh vegans, I know you feel my pain on this one.

When I’ve eaten out with co-workers (not a vegan or vegetarian among them) they often insist on the steak house with the “beautiful salad bar.” In fact they get annoyed and think I’m being difficult if I point out that I don’t love that salad bar. From their viewpoint a salad bar ought to be vegan heaven.

Let me describe this scene of horror for you.

First there are two types of lettuce. There is a big bowl of iceberg lettuce and then another bowl with romaine. The romaine is pre-dressed in César dressing and grated cheese. There are endless bowls of various pre-made salads, Jell-O and fruit salad, pasta salad, potato salad, Cole slaw, most of these have mayo in them, and some have bacon in them. Then there are about six different types of cheeses. Also present are bowls of different meats you can top your salad with: bacon of course, ham, chicken strips, and something that looks like bologna. Then there are cheese covered croutons. Finally there are some plain veggies: cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, and, if I’m lucky, some shredded carrots. Not a chick pea, sunflower seed, green pepper, sunchoke, or stalk of arugula in sight.

Then there are the dressings. They usually offer several, but all contain cheese or dairy, there ranch, bleu cheese, thousand island, and a “zesty Italian” with parmesan. If I ask they’ll dig me up a little bottle of vinegar to drizzle over the top of my iceberg salad.

While my co-workers dig into huge platters of “surf and turf” (otherwise known as the eating-one-animal-per-meal-just-ain’t-enough platter) I’m miserable with my sad and unsatisfying salad. Of course everyone else got the salad bar too, and they’ve heaped their plates with pasta salad and cheese cubes. Then my resentment increases ten-fold each time one of my companions nudges me and says “This is the best salad bar I’ve ever seen! Isn’t it great?”

Unfortunately through the years I’ve found that I can’t always dictate where my work decides to hold lunch meetings. I’ve had to come up with a work around instead. Here’s my method. If I know ahead of time we’re going to the restaurant, I bring along a tiny Tupperware of my own salad dressing—for me it’s Amy’s Goddess. I can also pack a little baggie of chickpeas and pumpkin seeds. Whatever you like on your salad but you know they don’t have can be tucked into a purse (or if you’re a guy I would suggest an innocent looking gift bag, so the next time someone gives you a gift in one, save it).

If you don’t know ahead of time that you’re going to a place where you’ll have trouble eating, then you shouldn’t feel the least bit ashamed to skip the salad bar and ask your waiter if they can make something vegan for you. Maybe pasta marinara, hold the cheese, or perhaps the dreaded steamed vegetable plate. Also ask if they have any fresh fruit in the kitchen—sometimes they, especially if they have a breakfast bar in the morning, do but it might not be on the menu. It doesn’t exactly sound ideal, but if you have something to eat it might cut down on the crankiness. Of course this is also one of those situations where that stash of vegan energy bars in your desk drawer at work comes in really handy too.

I hope these tips help you survive salad bars. I think the thing that bothers me most about this situation is that I try to show people how simple, flavorful and inspired vegan foods can be. But to someone uneducated on veganism my inability to eat at a salad bar makes my diet and lifestyle seem difficult, boring, and joyless. If I’m able to sneak my bring-your-own additions onto my plate then I’m able to eat something that looks and smells good, and more importantly something satisfying that I enjoy, while around non-vegans.