There was a point in time when I was vegetarian and didn’t quite realise what I was missing in terms of culinary experiences worldwide. But what I do remember most from that time is the immense amount of creativity I had to cultivate in order to stay vegetarian and still eat three edible meals a day in any part of the world.

The ‘edible’ bit is the catch here. On my earliest trips abroad, I was the classical intolerant Indian vegetarian. I expected places to be vegetarian-friendly and also serve spicy food. In short, I expected everyone to serve Indian food.

American food was “bland”, Italian food “too cheesy”, Mexican food “didn’t have enough salt”, and Japanese food was essentially the local aquarium on the plate. I couldn’t eat sandwiches for a meal and heck, even that vegetarian lifesaver, French fries, was often fried in animal fat. Middle Eastern cooking? Not bad, but “not spicy enough”. I ordered soups and proceeded to empty the salt and pepper cellars into them. I ordered pizza and covered it with enough chilli flakes to blind Nasseruddin Shah (not many of you will get this reference). I ordered Mexican food and asked for a few kilos of jalapenos extra. And Chinese food? Chinese food in the US is um… too Chinese, and not Indian enough. Also, what sort of Chinese restaurant does not serve Gobi Manchurian?

But after a few months, the typical Indian vegetarian discovers a few items that become the anchor of his life. For me, it was the cheap bean burritos from Taco Bell, an institution that rarely knows the provenance of the food it serves. The bean burritos, when doused liberally in their famous ‘fire sauce’, become spicy enough to overcome any feeling of unease at the dubious kitchen processes at that place. I also discovered Thai food, again, quite vegetarian friendly unless one asks for “extra spicy sauce”, a sauce that will smell like a shark after a tough gym workout.

But most of all, the best trick the vegetarian learns is to think ‘outside the menu’. In the early days, I would mostly just skip past anything fauna-based and pray that they had something other than French fries and salads. But soon, I learnt that I could order the “Chicken fajita” at a Mexican restaurant and give the waiter one key instruction: “No chicken”. In the beginning, they would look at you quizzically (of course, this was 2000, and there weren’t too many vegetarians in San Antonio, Texas) with a “Are-you-sure?” expression. I would reassure them and they would proceed to bring me a sizzling plate of grilled onions, capsicum and carrots, which weren’t too bad with Mexican rice and beans.

I once ordered a Swiss Angus beef sandwich, without the beef. I asked him to add extra grilled onions and ‘bell peppers’ (American for capsicum) and I then sprinkled it generously with Cajun spices and chilli flakes. Those were the days.

I don’t really miss them now because I well and truly enjoy every kind of food from any part of the animal kingdom. But looking back, I can’t forget the time when I went to ‘Joe’s Crab Shack’ with my friends and the waiter called the chef so that I could give him instructions on “vegetarianising” a seafood dish!