Ever notice that the longer you’ve been vegan, the stranger—and funnier—your everyday food moments become?
I’m talking about the tiny quirks only those of us who’ve clocked years of plant-based living truly get. The stuff that makes our omnivore friends raise an eyebrow while we nod in silent solidarity.
Below are ten of those inside jokes, plus a dash of psychology on why they stick—and a few practical tips so you can keep laughing instead of losing your cool.
1. Your protein police interrogations have become a sport
“How do you get enough protein?”—the question that never dies.
Somewhere between year two and three you stop being offended and start treating it like stand-up comedy. I rotate answers: a straight-faced “sunlight,” an exaggerated flex, or a short primer on legumes.
Humor matters here. When we laugh at a repetitive stressor, we flip the brain’s stress response into a coping mechanism called reappraisal, making the situation feel less threatening and more manageable.
“The intake of legumes—beans, chickpeas, split peas, and lentils—may be the single most important dietary predictor of a long lifespan.”
—Dr. Michael Greger, NutritionFacts.org
Quote a longevity expert once and suddenly the interrogation turns into genuine curiosity. Keep a go-to stat handy and you’ll walk away smiling.
2. You mentally translate menus like you’re cracking a secret code
Scanning a restaurant menu now feels like speed-reading The Da Vinci Code.
Dairy in the dressing? Chicken stock in the soup? You’ve learned to spot a hidden anchovy at fifty paces.
Tip: Ask, “Could the chef prepare that plant-based?” instead of just “Is this vegan?”
The subtle wording frames the request as culinary creativity, not restriction, and servers usually respond with more enthusiasm.
3. Every new plant milk release is a national holiday
Oat, pea, macadamia, pistachio—name a nut or seed and you’ve tried its latte version.
Long-term vegans know the timestamp of their first barista-quality foam (mine: 2014, almond flat white, São Paulo).
Why the excitement? Novelty spikes dopamine, the brain chemical linked to reward. A new milk variety equals a mini mood boost—and zero animals harmed. Win-win.
4. You wield nutritional yeast like confetti
It starts innocently: a sprinkle on popcorn. Fast-forward and you have a glass jar labeled “nooch” that you refill weekly.
Friends joke that you’d probably pack it on a desert island. (They’re not wrong.)
I once brought a shaker to a family reunion; my sister still tells that story. But hey, B-vitamins, umami, and cheddar vibes in a single spoonful? I make no apologies.
5. You keep a running mental list of gelatin aliases
After the third time marshmallows fooled me, I became a label-reading ninja. Isinglass, cochineal, shellac—these words jump out like neon signs.
Cognitive psychologists call this perceptual tuning: repeated exposure to a category sharpens our attention to its cues.
Translation: your brain literally trains itself to find hidden animal bits faster than your omnivore buddies can pronounce “carminic acid.”
6. Potlucks turned you into a stealth dessert legend
At every gathering someone says, “Just bring a salad.” Challenge accepted.
I show up with triple-layer chocolate brownies so fudgy even my carnivore uncle asks for the recipe. The punchline lands when I reveal the secret ingredient—sweet-potato purée, not butter.
Sharing impressive treats shifts the conversation from “what you don’t eat” to “wow, this is delicious.”
That social reframing reduces the otherness cue people subconsciously attach to veganism, making connections smoother.
7. Your B12 supplement rattles louder than car keys
I can identify fellow long-timers in a room by the tiny metallic clink in their bags—yep, that’s the monthly B12 tablet tube.
Registered dietitians remind us that “unfortified plant-based foods are not a reliable supply” of B12, so supplementation is essential for long-term vegans.
Pop it proudly. Nutritional responsibility is attractive. And if someone mistakes the sound for breath mints, offer them a crash course in essential micronutrients.
8. You quote Melanie Joy in casual conversation—and people blink
“We eat animals simply because it’s what we’ve always done, and because we like the way they taste.” —Dr. Melanie Joy
Slip that line into a dinner chat and watch forks pause mid-air. Long-term vegans collect these mic-drop moments, not to shame anyone, but to plant seeds of reflection.
Just remember to follow up with empathy, not lecturing, or you’ll lose the room.
9. Your pantry holds more beans than most bomb shelters
Chickpeas? Multipack. Black beans? By the kilo. Lentils? Three colors, minimum.
This isn’t hoarding—it’s risk management. When you rely on plants, you don’t leave satiety to chance.
Psych hack: abundant healthy options in your environment (a concept called choice architecture) reduce decision fatigue and make sticking to habits feel effortless.
Translation: stock up and future-you will thank present-you at 6 p.m.
10. You’ve turned “sorry, I’m vegan” into an improv routine
There are times the only plant-based item at a friend’s cookout is the lettuce garnish.
Cue the polite decline. Long-term vegans master the art of gracious refusal mixed with humor—“I’m saving room for dessert,” “On a strict leaf-only cleanse,” or my favorite: “I left my goat-cheese phase back in 1999.”
Humor diffuses tension and signals you’re not judging anyone’s plate, which maintains social bonds.
Shared laughter boosts endorphins and trust—exactly what you need when everyone else is tucking into ribs.
Final thoughts
If you recognized at least eight of these quirks, congrats—you’re officially a seasoned herbivore with stories to spare.
The funny moments aren’t just punchlines; they’re proof that habits reshape our minds, our social scripts, and even our grocery carts.
So keep laughing at the label gymnastics, celebrate every new alt-milk drop, and stash that nooch like the treasure it is.
Humor lightens the mental load of staying consistent, and consistency is what makes plant-based living stick for the long haul.
And the next time someone asks where you get your protein, flash a grin and invite them over for black-bean brownies.
Chances are they’ll leave understanding a little more—and laughing a lot harder—about the wonderfully weird world we long-time vegans call home.
