I like the term “accidentally vegan” because it makes me think that once the manufacturers realize their mistake they’ll go ahead and fix it. Sprinkle in some vitamin D3 or maybe a little whey if they’re feeling cheeky.
Brooklyn is home to the ziggurat* of accidental veganism but I’m not going to tell you where it is because I don’t want you gentrifying it and magically turning my one dollar avocados into three dollar ones**. “Accidentally vegan” also tends to mean “loaded with hydrogenated fats and a healthy dose of high fructose corn syrup” but I still can’t help reading the ingredients on all the packaging just because it’s satisfying; croissants, halvah, cookies – all vegan!
Enter strawberry soymilk. This seemed like an okay choice, all natural ingredients and even some of those omega-3s. As a kid I always opted for strawberry milk over chocolate, partly to set myself apart from the masses, partly because pink is prettier and partly because it tasted good, like the leftover milk after eating Fruity Pebbles. So I thought this would bring back fond childhood memories. Instead it just reminded me that I hated my childhood. It’s not that it tasted bad exactly. It was more like that part of my life is over and it’s time to move on. I’m past my strawberry years, even past my coffee years, and well into my chai years, and I’m okay with that. But I wonder if the actual milk were pink would I have felt any different?
*7th grade social studies I have not forgotten you!
**Also, I’m writing something else about the store so I don’t want to dilute my message.