I'm a vegan as you all probably know by now. The question I get asked most often is: "But what do you eat?" Seriously. Like there's no other food on earth except meat (including seafood here) and its by-products. Nothing else? Yet when I ask what they - whoever asked - ate for dinner for instance, I get: "Well a steak, some salad, potatoes, oh yeah, there was a rice dish too with peas and corn and bell peppers..."

Do I laugh? Do I cry in anguish? Why is it so difficult for people to imagine the above dinner minus the steak?

I eat a lot of food. I eat what you eat minus the meat stuff. I eat soups, I eat entrees, I eat salads, mains, deserts, snacks, hell I can even eat ice-cream - gelato that is. Or coconut yoghurt mixed with fresh berries... There is an abundance of food available to me. I have probably tasted more dishes in terms of different ingredients than twenty of you combined. But the label 'vegan' follows me like a curse.

There's the whole 'going out to a restaurant' thing. Dylan is convinced that at the very minimum some spit and maybe some other bodily fluids are in everything I order. Because the conversation usually goes like this:

"Ma'am, your order?" I am always left to order last, it's a thing.

"Um... I'm vegan so-"

Silence. Depending on the age of said waiter, I will get either confusion or a very pained expression. Very pained. Like in "Out of all the bloody tables in this place you had to be on my one?"

I stare at the menu for the tenth time to see if I can convert any of their 'vegetarian options' to vegan ones. See, they think they're doing the right thing, offering both 'vegetarian' and 'gluten-free meals'. Their PC standards are covered - until a vegan comes along... Especially one like me.

"We could offer you the truffle-infused blah blah... served on a slice of grilled ciabatta as an entree?"

"Do you toast the bread in the same grill as the errr... meats?"

The ever so slight give-away look to the floor, then, "I believe we do m-"

"Never mind."

"Perhaps the penne then?" (We've skipped the entrees now.)

"There's cream? Cream in the sauce, see?"

"Ehmm... yes. Maybe I should consult with the chef?"

"That would be nice, thank you."

Whatever comes out next - and I've had dozens of these instances - is never vegan. I may not eat meat, but I cook meat, I smell meat. And every dish, every effing time either smells or tastes like there's animal fat, or cream, or fish sauce, or egg... I could go on and on. Usually I choose a designated taster - my mother is the best if she's at the dinner since she knows me right? - but I will use anyone at hand I can reasonably trust to be honest. Last resort, I will have a small taste and discreetly spit it out into my napkin, linen or otherwise.

"But I assure you ma'am..."

"I can taste the last dish that was cooked on this skillet!" Or, "You just removed the cheese from the Greek salad, you didn't make a fresh one, look - there's bits right there!" Or, "No! Oyster sauce is not fine nor vegan!"

So I end up picking at bits of bread or chomping on a breadstick waiting again. Everyone at the table has finished their meals. They all rave about the different dishes. I get something put in front of me finally. It tastes okay, and everyone at the table emits a combined sigh of relief. But even then, there is the gnawing suspicion they've snuck something in there out of spite, or some saliva has accidently dribbled...

Pizza? Oh how I miss Italy... The street stalls, where you can buy it by the slice and it has NO cheese in the base! Here, it's another story:

The boys will order first. Then I speak.

"I'm vegan and-"

"Yes, we have the Vegetarian Delight!" A chorus of Hallelujahs follows this boastful pronouncement. A broad grin too.

"It has cheese in it."

"You don't like cheese?"

Sigh. "I am vegan. No cheese."

"Okay then, no cheese." A hurried note alongside the order.

"And can you use fresh tongs?"

"Tongs?"

"You know, for the capsicum and the mushrooms and olives?"

"Okay yeah, new tongs..." More almost illegible scribbling, and there's that slight hesitation at this point, like they clearly know I am not finished yet.

"And don't cut it."

"Don't cut it?"

"You use the same cutter for all the pizzas, look!" I point to the offending circular thingy.

One of two things usually happens: I find bits of ham or bacon or sardines... or they cut it. Yep, they cut it. Because they're busy see, and busy means other customers waiting who don't give a shit if there's a piece of bacon in their Margherita or if the cutter has the remnants of a sliced-in-half sardine. So we begin again, and this time I am watching like a hawk, and they feel my eyes on their back... They get it right, but... the suspicion of some dribble...

Fast food joints are out completely. Seen the Subway 'eat fresh' ingredients trays? Oh how I rejoiced when the concept first arrived here! Vegan fast food right? Nope. The tomato tray has ham in it; the lettuce is peppered with whatever meats and cheeses the previous twelve gloved hands dropped in there as they scooped some lettuce out; the avocado is an absolute mushy lumpy infested thing...

Even bakeries, where they make everything fresh on the spot for you? There's always a remnant from a past gloved hand. Always. Or they friggin use butter or margarine- usually with some animal fat.

Call me finicky. Everyone does. I walk into some of our regular joints and waiters cringe and hide at the sight of me. I am that freak who will make life hell for them. I am not normal, I am not reasonable. I demand! Sometimes I argue?

It's the principle see. Which makes absolutely no sense to a non-vegan: "So what if there's a bit of salami? Just pick it off already!"

Just pick it off? Like the equivalent of you finding a piece of dog-turd in your salad and just picking it off? I don't say that but I certainly think it. And I so want to say it!

Sure I can go dine at any number of vegan and raw-food establishments. Sometimes I do, just to ease the frustration. But I don't like eating on my own see; I like the company, maybe the odd conversation? And who in their right mind goes to a vegan restaurant if they're not vegan? Who?

There are three places I can eat vegan-ish:

·       Hospitals. They have to abide by certain diet laws, or face financial pain.

·       Airplanes. Same principles as above.

·       Any of George Kolombaris' establishments. He's the little Greek chef from Masterchef Australia - some of you may have caught the show on cable? He's a kind of 'family friend' and he prepares these amazing dishes - on the spot, just for me. We don't go there often, but oh when we do, I rejoice in every mouth-watering treat brought to me. Made especially for me. Some have flowers, others delicate morsels of - who knows... But I trust him. And definitely no spit or other bodily fluids served on the side there.

Up in Cairns recently, I lived on avocado and seaweed sushi rolls. That's all I ate for four days straight, apart from the dinner out where we had pizza (same ordeal). Also some organic chips as snacks and some Bujha nut mixes. On the wonderful Green Island paradise, I starved. Oh wait, I did have a couple of slices of pineapple, hanging off the side of my cocktail glasses!

It's not easy. It should be easy right? Vegans deserve just as much respect as non-vegans. But everything - even so-called vegetarian dishes are either flavoured with something or cooked in something 'non-veganish'. It's an unwinnable war. Because normal people just don't get it. They think vegans should compromise. They think vegans are bothersome. They think vegans are just effing nuts and yeah, a massive pain in the arse.

What is my favourite meal? Pasta for sure, especially primavera or the one I made up: penne with roasted pine-nuts, organic garlic, fresh basil from the garden, shallots, diced chillies again from the garden and diced avocado lightly tossed in extra virgin olive oil, sprinkled with a mix of Pink Himalayan Salt and organic pepper. What? What?

Or a big bowl of assorted lettuce, (again from the garden) tomatoes, spring onions, red onions, peppers, beans, snow-peas, some fresh herbs, chilli-infused olive oil, roasted pine nuts, avocado, hemp seeds, mixed chia seeds, chopped walnuts or pistachio nuts, or almonds (sometimes all) and toasted croutons... with a splash of balsamic vinegar. I can eat a huge bowl and want more. What? What's your problem?

I eat okay? And all this food I eat, it doesn't go straight to my stomach or my thighs or sit in my intestines fermenting for up to the three days it takes to fully break down and eliminate meat. My arteries are not clogged by all this congealing but apparently delicious fat? Leave a chunk of meat outside for three days and see what happens to it. Mmmm... now picture that same piece inside you!

Robert dear, @TheAlvarezChronicles, I challenge you to offer up comment. Telling me that when a Zombie apocalypse comes, 'vegans' will be the first to die is a lame retort. I can survive on greens and tree roots and nuts and 'bush tucker' as we call it downunder. The rest of you will just end up devouring each other. You need meat.