I was a pescetarian for 11 years, from the time I was 10 until I was 21. Luckily I grew up in Seattle, which is about as vegetarian-friendly as a city gets (and offers a lot of seafood options) — and then I moved to New York, which is still very veggie-friendly. But even there, I ate a lot of plain pasta or baked potatoes when out to dinner in group settings. My parents are also from Chicago, so we took regular trips to visit family in the Midwest, and on one of our drives through rural Illinois sometime in the mid 1990s we stopped, for lack of any other options, at a Burger King drive-though. I ordered a veggie burger, which Burger Kings had in Seattle. My parents and sister got hamburgers. When my burger came, I opened the buns, and saw that it was empty, except a slice of tomato and some lettuce. My dad handed it back to the cashier and said, “I’m sorry, I think you forgot the patty.” The woman, confused, said, “I thought you wanted a veggie burger?” And my dad, confused, said, “We did… we wanted a veggie patty. You know, like a gardenburger?” And the woman responded, “But if it has a patty it’s not going to be a veggie burger.”