I'm Vegan at Thanksgiving, too.

I'm the kind of vegan who can easily sit at the same table as someone eating animal products. I think I may not mind it as much as other vegans because I know that I am better than a meateater, but I don't expect others to think it. Being "better" than someone else is a relative thing and it's really up to the individual to decide for him or herself that he or she is superior to others. And I'm confident that I can sit next to anyone and look cooler if I'm munching on pita chips and they're munching on cheese fries. This makes celebrating Thanksgiving and Christmas with my family pretty easy.

This Thanksgiving, there was less meat-eating than ever before. This was my first year eating with my partner's family (My partner, Stephen is also Vegan), and his mother went way out of her way to cook about six or seven classic Thanksgiving dishes to vegan standards. At my family's house, we eat pretty healthfully for Thanksgiving, serving non-traditional items instead of the starchier ones. It's not a tradition, per se, but it is something that's evolved over the years since my mom has become the primary holiday chef.

This year, at my family's house there were only 4 of us (I have a very small family to begin with, and my father's whole side of the family was out of town for the holidays), so we spent the majority of Thanksgiving morning cooking and chatting. There were no break-away groups, so we spoke mostly of food and vegan things. When the topic of stuffing came up though, I remembered a dish my Grandma, who I playfully call "Grammy", makes once a year: Her Breakfast Casserole. By far my favorite bit of holiday nostalgia, this breakfast casserole is a sure-fire way to guarantee a Happy Thanksgiving, the only problem is, it's the furthest from vegan you can get besides the whole turkey sitting, looking at you on the dining room table.

I called her this morning to ask for the recipe because I love to "veganize" anything I can get my hands on, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity create something wonderful out of something wonderfully cruel, yet wonderfully delicious. She replied to my request with an irresolute "Well, I can give you the recipe, but you can't eat it!" I politely explained that it may be easier than she thought (to replace the eggs, dairy, and meat products that comprise the vast majority of the casserole), and that come Christmas, she'd be eating the same casserole she'd been making for years without the guilt that comes with eating 1 1/2 lbs of sausage. I'm sure she doesn't feel one bit guilty, but I'd like to think there's potential.

As you can imagine, my excitement is growing. I will indeed post the results of this experiment soon, and you'll be sure to note that the farm animals' nightmare that was my Grammy's Breakfast Casserole will be sitting in the middle of the table, come this Christmas, and my small family will be dining on its cruelty-free goodness.