Tonight, for the first time in over a year, I had a milkshake. See, as I’ve been vegan for, I dunno, over a year now, I don’t often indulge in food products whose names include dairy. But, in the all-vegan haven of a local plant-based burger joint, I decided to kick back my heels, and share a vegan cookie-dough milkshake with a good friend before attending a talk by Ta-Nehisi Coates (because obviously, we’re an incredibly sophisticated pair).

It was romantic, she and I standing there, shivering in there in the lobby, quietly consuming this shake before walking through the bag check and metal detector lines where the guards would certainly steal it away from her purse, where we had carefully hidden it. After a few bites, C said, “I like this. It has that strong, ‘I’m vegan’ taste, and I appreciate when vegan things announce themselves.” Smiling and nodding, I agreed.

Then, lo and behold, the milkshake experience got better! Not only were there small dispersed cookie dough particles throughout, but upon digging one’s spoon into the deeper recesses of the eco-friendly compostable one-use cup, one found whole chunks of cookie dough! Ah, the bliss. Though the weather outside may be frightful, I have a friend with whom to share a vegan milkshake.

And yet, the title of this post lies not. For, as I gluttonously chomped down on my chunk of dough in fervent expectation, I had an unwelcome realization: DATES.

I ask the world, why? Why must my vegan milkshake be made from fruit? Though I choose to abstain from animal products, do I not too share the god-given right of everyone living in a Westernized food environment to enjoy a sugary concoction made almost entirely from some broken down version of corn or soy? To what other effect do we yearly strip the soil of the Midwest in planting seas of mono cultures, if not for my intended enjoyment of corn syrup? And yet, my cookie dough was made of dates.

I hold few allusions–I know myself to be basic in a myriad of ways. I eat as much avocado toast as any millennial, and my fridge is well-stocked with kale, miso, and chia–but I will never give in to the hegemonic rise of ‘healthy’ desserts, and I will never accept that dates are a delicious treat.

When I want to eat fruit, I shall. But when I reach for a shake, it should be made as God, in her infinite wisdom, clearly intended — from almond milk and Haagen-Dasz non-dairy ice cream. That is all.

-M