The Blossoming Lotus
Trip Start Apr 21, 2009
11Trip End Apr 26, 2009
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The gentle waterfall and "quiet please" signs on each of the wooden tables do nothing to ease my feeling of foreboding, a sense not shared by anyone else. "I feel very calm in here," says Emma. The menu is brief but actually sounds fine, excepting the nuts that pepper all the ingredient lists. The jury is still out on how severe my allergies are -- a few friends (and occasionally, my wife) maintaining I may be psychosomatic -- but the death potential isn't what I react to at the Blossoming Lotus.
First, I've suffered through enough forgettable vegan food to realize you really need to know what you're doing in the kitchen when you reject the crutch of all the animal byproducts that can elevate an okay dish to something enjoyable. Second, the whole uncompromising attitude of some vegans has echoes of fundamentalism. When I go to wash my hands, I need to cross a Quiet Zone protected by a series of floor signs reading "No shoes, no cellphones, no children." As I remove my loafers in order to practice basic hygiene, I can't help wondering if there's some video camera somewhere. Am I on Candid Camera?
I am unreasonably suspicious of the Blossoming Lotus. The Indian Bowl is excellent. I can feel the nourishment flowing out to my limbs. Emma and Julie also give their fare thumbs up, and Emma's branded another unsuspecting service worker in Portland "my new boyfriend." All the quiet signs are for the adjoining yoga studio, so maybe it's just vegan yoga practicers who have a weird problem with the Sound of A Man Walking on Carpets.