BOLTON: Inter-dietary dating is kosher

"He's a vegetarian." I broke the news to my mother when Chris and I started dating.

"So, does this mean you're a vegetarian now, too?" She asked with a shade of disapproval as if becoming a vegetarian flew directly in the face of my South Dakota, ranch upbringing.

"Well, no, but I will be eating far less meat, I suppose."

I explained that as a poor college student I had been largely vegetarian anyhow, but she was still perplexed. Apparently, "inter-dietary dating" — when one person or both partners is either restrictive by choice (vegan) or by necessity (gluten-free) — is an emerging dating obstacle.

And understandably so: An incredible sense of identity is wrapped up in the food we eat (and refuse to eat), not to mention that the ever-increasing popularity of Michael Pollan books and documentaries like Food Inc. have brought food industry ethics into everyday conversation.

In my experience, inter-dietary dating has been exciting, and while I understand the sources of tension it could cause, it is absolutely not a deal-breaker given both parties are willing to compromise.

For example, I am free to eat, say, salmon at a restaurant without condemnation. Likewise, Chris asks that I be mindful not to cross-contaminate utensils used on my animal protein with his vegetarian portions. Are these types of requests any different from other forms of compromise necessary for relationships to work?

In fact, I don't necessarily view these dietary changes as compromise.

Even PETA encourages inter-dietary dating. In response to a surge of "vegansexuals," those vegans who refuse to have sex with meat-eaters for reported reasons ranging from differing ethics to "meat-eaters smell," PETA posted the following statement online: "We're pro inter-dietary dating for about a million reasons; for one thing, if you're ever going to persuade someone that they need to stop eating animals, you need to be around them, talk to them, listen to their point of view, and, hell, sometimes even sleep with them."

"I've encountered many a fine-smelling carnivore," Ben, my longtime vegetarian friend stated. He's a Nebraskan living in New York City and says that he would never hold meat consumption against a potential date. "Even though there are plenty of veggies and vegans in New York City, I can't imagine having to limit my dating pool to those folks!"

When his vegetarian diet does come up on dates, Ben says that it often leads to interesting conversation crucial to the success of a date. "Omnivores often have all sorts of bewildered questions [such as] ‘How do you survive starvation?!'" He explained, " These conversations can lead into a whole host of topics."

In my particular case, preparing and sharing meals with Chris is central to our relationship. I am thankful Chris can cook, and I suppose that is largely the result of growing up in a small Midwestern town and deciding to "go veg" eight years ago.

"Sure you're a meat-eater, Erin, but you're adventurous [about food]." Chris commented recently.

And I think he's a culinary artist. In fact, I have yet to meet an omnivore as creative about food as Chris is. It is that trait, and less the vegetarian diet, that makes us click. If you aren't a finicky, picky eater and instead are exploratory about food in general, chances are that spirit is a part of your overall disposition.

Besides, its not like we sit around eating lettuce all day.

Our weekly menu includes such delights as empanadas stuffed with queso fresco, roasted corn and black beans tossed in a roasted chili verde salsa finished with a cilantro-lime sour cream. During the summer, we bought a community-supported agriculture (CSA) share from a local farm. Each week a nice woman on a tricycle with an attached cooler dropped off 10 pounds of fruits and vegetables, as well as a dozen farm-fresh, organic eggs.

Because we weren't able to choose what the farm delivered, the CSA was like a weekly culinary brainteaser, and we enjoyed the challenge. We bought a small, "meatless" grill for our balcony, and we started creating treats like grilled portobello mushrooms stuffed with spinach and artichoke dip. Dry hamburgers and overcooked steak didn't even enter my mind.

How a potential partner eats, if I am honest with myself, has been quietly important to me my entire dating life. I'm big on new restaurants and recipes, turning off the TV and spending time eating a meal — not to mention sharing the clean up.

Chris might be a vegetarian, but he meets and exceeds the laundry list of aforementioned food-centered desires.

Do your best not to discount a potential partner based on diet alone — or at least acknowledge the dietary differences, if they cannot be overcome, are likely the result of a deeper incompatibility.

I can eat a great giant piece of flesh on my own time. After all, isn't compromise what relationships are all about?

Erin Bolton is a graduate student in Community and Regional Planning. Reach her at erinbolton@dailynebraskan.com.