Ever since developing a personal conviction a few years ago that following a raw vegan existence was the best lifestyle for me, I've lived somewhat in conflict with the day-to-day corporate business environment in which I make my living at the moment. As we've directly stated many, many times, we're in the process of changing all of that. But, making such a huge change takes a long time because careers are in many ways very anchoring. We may write more about that process because it's true that going raw (or, really, adopting any kind of diet outside of what most other people eat) can lead to significant changes in your life. Between Wendi and me, I think we've gone through pretty much all of them, and there's certainly value and relevance in sharing most of those things here. Today, though, I thought I'd share what I call my "$75 Salad Story."

In the business world, "networking" is among the more prevalent activities anyone does. It's pretty much always going to involve food , right? It's always a breakfast briefing, meeting a client over lunch, or attending a dinner party (complete with a cocktail hour). ?The deck is more or less stacked against you at these things because, let's face it, they're usually set up to provide what most people perceive as a pleasant experience. And, quite often, that means a certain degree of culinary decadence / indulgence -- invariably at venues that have never heard of raw chocolate or raw apple pie (which, to me, is 10x more appealing and exciting than the ubiquitous "chocolate fountain").

Fortunately for me, the business circles in which I sometimes run have become at least moderately more health conscious in recent years. I'm starting to see more fruit and veggie trays at these things, for example. But, the entr es are always standard business-class fare. These bulk-produced sauce-, bread-, meat-, and cheese-heavy dishes aren't meals that any truly health-conscious person would enjoy very much. But, on some level, there seems to be some kind of unspoken vibe, as if to say in a satisfied manner: "These are delicious foods, and these foods are what successful business people like me eat." It's adult role-playing, in my view; they eat that way because they feel that that's the way adult businesspeople should eat.

Maybe it's somehow related to all of the preparation involved. Subconsciously, when you eat a meal made by someone else in such a situation, you might feel somewhat important, no? You might think, "Someone else prepared all of this expensive food -- probably a whole team of people. I've employed these people, and that gives me a sense of importance in many ways, a sense of wealth and successfulness - - which is what business is all about."

See what I'm getting at? It's all very subtle, very speculative (and, please, I'm not denigrating chefs or restaurateurs here at all -- I love going to a great restaurant!). I'm actually just kind of thinking out loud about it, not making any real conclusions. But, I think there's a whole complex psychology going on at these things. I see it, but I think articulating it might take me more time than I have available at the moment. But, can you relate to this?

The other night, I had an opportunity to attend a primo restaurant here in Pittsburgh. It's called the Le Mont, a well-established destination perched on a cliff overlooking downtown Pittsburgh. The views, through their many walls of floor-to-ceiling windows, are absolutely stunning. The prices are kind of stunning, too. I mean, it wasn't on my dime, but it's just not every day that I'm invited to attend a $75/plate meal. And, quite frankly, I don't think my boss knew that I'd called ahead and ordered a dinner salad to replace whatever was on the menu for everyone else.

Pittsburgh enjoys its reputation (undeserved, these days, in my opinion) as a blue-collar town. Our football team is the Steelers, after all, so named during the local heyday of the labor-intensive steel industry. That era long gone, the townsfolk still like to think of themselves as exemplifying some kind of legendary (mythical, even) work ethic. (Historically, perhaps this was true, but today it's just like anywhere else.) This image, though, seems to have created a brazen disregard for health. Never in my life have we encountered so many smokers, for example. And then of course there are the culinary inventions such as the Primanti's cheesesteak, which includes everything found on a normal cheesesteak, plus french fries and cole slaw on the sandwich. (I used to eat these delicious monstrosities from time to time; I also used to weigh almost 240 pounds.) The story goes: The steel workers were so tired, hungry, and rushed, they thought it was an all-around improvement to just throw the entire meal onto a bread roll. Well, I don't think that's true, but it sounds believable enough if you don't think about it too long.

My point, though, is that a sense still lingers here that we can just eat whatever, without consequences. "We're tough, and we can handle (and deserve) big, heavy, hearty meals because we're going to work it off tomorrow during our double-shift at the blast furnace." Filter that down several decades and you get the comedic scenario of my $75 salad. Here I am in a room of 100+ people. Dinner is being served. There is no choice offered to anyone -- dinner is a slab of red meat the enormity of which you've only ever seen on The Flintstones. And these tuxedo-clad servers are walking around distributing the steaks to unanimously eager patrons. Five times, a different server places one in front of me. Five times, I politely whisper: "Actually, I called in for a salad." (I'm not complaining here, btw. I mean this more as a funny story.)

So, then I see this one woman aimlessly walking around carrying a huge plate of greens. Yep, that's my salad! A server flags her over, and we finally accomplish the delivery stage of the meal. My boss looks up, slightly tipsy, and asks, "Are you a vegetarian, Jim " I laugh and say I think I'm the only one in the room.

It was... not bad. I have to say, I wasn't expecting anything more than an iceberg lettuce and shredded-carrot abomination. But, they actually put together an enormous plate of fresh dark field greens and an impressive array of cut veggies. Aside from the balsamic vinegar (which, hey, I rolled with), it was actually a raw vegan meal, and pretty darned good. Not $75 good, but I'd definitely go back if it was $12.95.

Cross-posted on Medium.com.