Oh tofu, oh tofu, wherefore art thou tofu?

This Tuesday, us two intrepid Barnard Babes—Anna, a vegan, and Esther, a vegan food enjoyer—braved the chilly September night in search of cruelty-free nom noms to fill our grumbly tumblies. 

When it comes to vegan vittles, Barnumbia still has a lot of room to grow. Food sensitivities tend to get lumped together, so anyone looking for a break from the SAD (Standard American Diet) on campus can enjoy plant-based, gluten-free, oil-free, joy-free, all-natural-pre-dirt-nothing-sludge (like, for example, the vegan gluten-free struggle-food brownies at Liz’s Place). Considering the stray beef bits in Diana’s tofu and the suspiciously meaty Hewitt nugs, cross-contamination is more widespread than we’d like. With this in mind, we decided to evaluate all our options before sitting down to taste-test our chosen snacks.

First, we took a gander at the vending machines in Milstein’s basement. We were pleased to find that there were, in fact, a few options—dried mango, trail mix, a Cliff bar, and a few different kinds of chips. While the portions were all snack-appropriate, the only healthy-ish choice (dried mango) was half the size and twice the price of the others. Our wallets say, “no thank you!” We didn’t walk away thinking “Wow, what a uniquely vegan-friendly vending machine!” but we did have a bag of sweet potato chips in hand. Thanks, basement vending machine! 

The next stops on our adventure were far less fruitful. We followed the tunnels down to Hewitt and waited in line just in time for the fire alarm to go off. It was in and out—we didn’t even get a look at any potential snack options. As we were exiting, Anna got sniped by a drop of icky mystery water (she might be cursed now), so that was pretty exciting too. Not entirely sure if the mystery water was vegan, though. 

Next, we made our way to Ferris Booth Commons. At the vegan station, we found measly carrot slices, watery mashed potatoes, and an empty space where the main course used to be. We waited until closing, but no seitan-bearing hero ever arrived. Moving on through the extremely crowded room, we made it to the pizza station, where Esther, our vegan-food-enjoyer, fell to her knees with a wail. There was no vegan pizza. She raised her fist and cursed the curd monopoly. Ultimately, we decided to grab a vegan/gluten-free chocolate chip cookie from the dessert case and left Ferris two meal swipes poorer but one dessert richer than we came.

JJ’s was our last vegan hope. When we arrived, Esther took a moment to appreciate the salad bar. The celery was arranged vertically, so all the stalks leaned against each other in their tray, and the dressings, on a bed of ice, were shaped like wine bottles. Her conclusion? “It looks… drunk.” Impossible pizza burgers were the vegan main, which seemed like a gamble, since chefs would have to successfully imitate the flavors of both cheese and meat for a tasty result. 

Knowing the risks, we picked up an impossible pizza-burger (pirger?), and sat down in the back to taste our selection of spoils. Unfortunately, these snacks didn’t hit the spot. It was more like they slapped us in the face.

First, we opened the vending machine sweet potato chips. The texture? We agreed it was giving dehydrated sponge. Esther liked the taste, rating it a 7/10, while Anna most certainly did not, it earned a sad 3/10 from her. 

Next, we tried the Ferris pre-packaged vegan gluten-free cookie. Oh boy. We tore off a piece and it crumbled like drywall. Definitely not a great sign. It truly tasted even worse than it looked. Imagine if a brick was injected with stevia, rancid coconut, and maltodextrin—it was rated a unanimous 0/10.

Last, and also, probably least, was the pirger. Anna wasn’t even brave enough to try it when she saw Esther’s face post-bite.

Unfortunately, we ended the night filling a trash can instead of our grumbly tumblies. Columbia’s vegan offerings often range in quality, but on Tuesday, the bar was in hell. We’re praying for a redemption arc.

Vegan Atrocities via Authors