20 pledges for 2020: ‘It’s not chicken... is it?’ Why eating out at restaurants with vegan options is sometimes harder than you think
Adam Hamdani: This year, I’m giving up meat and dairy. That’s right, I am going to be that annoying vegan who can’t stop talking about being vegan. I hope you enjoy the ride


I have a confession: I might have eaten chicken a couple of weeks ago.
But I didn’t mean to – and I’m still not sure if I actually did.
I went to Megan’s restaurant in Kensington with two colleagues and immediately knew what I wanted to order, the “posh deconstructed plant-based chickn with piri piri and coconut yoghurt”. Megan’s is a picturesque, Instagrammable sort of place which prides itself on presentation.
The “chickn” lived up to expectation. It looked beautiful and tasted even better. There’s just one problem: I think it might have been actual chicken. I took one bite and thought this is too good to be true. Even my meat-eating colleagues were confused. I felt too nervous to ask the waiting staff and potentially look silly – or, rather, admit to myself that I had messed up so early into my new diet/challenge.
To be honest, I carried on eating it and didn’t really look back. It was that good.
I ran a poll on my Instagram the same day to see what people thought, was it chicken or chickn? Around 60% voted for the latter. I quizzed my colleagues: most said they thought it wasn’t real meat. But were they being honest or just trying to make me feel better?
Maybe with that one, I’m safe. I suppose the ultimate test will be going back and ordering it again. If it’s the same dish, I’m safe – if not then I’ll probably never admit it to anyone.
I’ve included a picture of the food above – let me know what you think it is. You might have had it yourself and can help dispel my guilty feeling.
I came across a similar issue when I ate out at SpiceBox last week – if you haven’t been, you need to go, whether you’re vegan or not.
It’s a vegan-only restaurant so I didn’t need to ask the question, but one of the dishes was so good even our table neighbours made a comment to me that she couldn’t tell the difference.
It reassured me that maybe the chicken at Megan’s really was chickn. Maybe I haven’t broken my pledge after all.
So why hasn’t the guilty feeling left me?
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