Notwithstanding the truly menacing Chucky running around the place wielding a razor, for me, the scariest thing about that evening was the food. I don’t mean that it tasted horrible; in fact, both my appetizer and entrée were very acceptable. Rather, what was unsettling to my OCD-mind was how much the supposedly vegan dishes I ordered tasted like meat. Having once, a long time ago, been the victim of a friend’s erroneous assurance that a dumpling didn’t contain meat (it did, and I stopped being friends with her soon after the incident), it’s very disturbing to me when I have to question the authenticity of food labeled “plant-based.” It bothered me so much that I couldn’t help flagging down our waitress at one point to demand confirmation that what I was eating was actually plant-based.
Beetle House serves a prix fixe menu (the “Poltergeist Feast”) priced at $65 per person, which includes an appetizer, main course, and dessert. Since I’m not a dessert person (never developed the habit of eating it after my meals, and I don’t care for pastries anyway), it was slightly annoying that there was no à la carte alternative. Oh well, Charlie would just have a second dessert then. And to be fair, $65 is highly reasonable, even if I do have to pay for a course I won’t eat.
From the nine appetizer options, I chose the vegan version of their “Nhang Kebab.” There were other vegan/vegetarian appetizer options as well, but this “Armenian-style” dish of sautéed meatless sausage patties and pita bread seemed the most interesting. As a matter of fact, I’ve fried up these Beyond Burger patties at home and so am familiar with how unnervingly meat-like they taste, but even so, like I said, I couldn’t help being nervous (I mean, there’s also a meat-based version of this item on their menu, so for all I know, the chef made a careless mistake).
Vegetarian/vegan options were fewer for the main courses than for the appetizers. I went with the “Death Proof,” a vegan “steak” served on a bed of (overcooked) broccolini. Again, I was taken aback by how much it tasted like meat. Despite the slight uneasiness this caused, however, I must say that the dish delivered on the promise proclaimed on the menu: it truly was very “well-seasoned”; in fact, it was delicious. The delightful blend of sweet and savory was shockingly reminiscent of this braised pork my grandmother used to make when I was a little girl. But… how did the chef at Beetle House get my grandmother’s recipe? She died so long ago that her grave’s probably a 7-11 by now. Did the chef channel my long-dead granny’s spirit?
