The contents of my refrigerator are as follows: orange juice, Coke, hummus, soy milk, salad dressing, a depressing lack of lettuce and some jam.

Oh, and in the bottom right corner, tucked behind the jug of orange juice: a partially eaten pan of vegan macaroni and cheese. It’s been there for about a month, and until I clean out the fridge, it’s not going anywhere.

Three weeks ago, the campus group Speak Out for Species hosted its “Great American Meatout.” It event featured a spread of vegan victuals, pamphlets and stickers. The group had erected a large pledge board where passers-by could proclaim their current veggie status or promise to attempt veg*nism for some period of time.

Motived partly by a long-dormant desire to go vegan and partly by a compulsion to always do the things others tell me I can’t, I signed the pledge board: “Vegetarian for eight years and going strong. I promise to go vegan for a week.”

I suppose first I should define the terms. See, I’ve been a lacto-ovo vegetarian for about eight years. That is, I don’t eat any meat (no, I don’t eat chicken or fish, though plenty of people seem to think I do). However, I do eat eggs and dairy products. Vegans, on the other hand, abstain from meat, egg and dairy products.

Of course, food isn’t the only facet of veg*nism (this term, by the way, is a short way of saying vegetarian or vegan). But for the sake of simplicity, I’m only focusing on the food.

So, for almost one week, I went vegan.

The first half of the week went wonderfully. The food I had around the house got a little boring, but I had only myself to blame – a lack of pre-experiment grocery shopping left me with little in the way of vegan foods.

In fact, a surprising number of common foods seem to contain egg or dairy ingredients. Some of it is expected – cookies and crackers – and some is not – fake meat products. a frozen pasta dish.

The frequent inclusion of non-vegan items might not be such a problem for those who have time. For those with a packed schedule, however, making most things from scratch isn’t often a viable option.

In the spirit of the experiment, I decided to attempt to make a wholly vegan dish. And in the spirit of the whole thing being challenging, I decided to create a vegan version of a dairy-laden item.

This is where that mostly untouched macaroni and “cheese” dish comes in. With the average ingredients, I can make a pretty mean mac and cheese from scratch. Given such proclivity, I should be able to whip up a killer vegan edition, right? Wrong. So wrong.

Perhaps it was me, or perhaps it was the dish. Either way, the nutritional yeast (flakes that supposedly taste cheesy, but really taste faintly like beer) that fueled the dish left, well, a bad taste in my mouth. Or maybe it was the $50 I’d spent on a few speciality items I wanted to try.

My experiment was over.

In the end, the whole week was a bit of a disappointment. I went into everything feeling hopeful and excited, but it proved rather more time-consuming and expensive than I’d imagined.

Of course, I can only speak about my own experiences, but as a busy college student with not a lot of money, I don’t think I’m too outside the box. And for me, for right now, veganism is too big of an investment to make with my time and money.

More power to those whose ideals and compassion drive them to the vegan lifestyle. I only wish I had that kind of willpower. For most people, though, I think a more conscious approach to food is the way to go.

For the average person, simple steps are likely a more realistic option: reading ingredient lists, being aware of how your food is produced and based on that information, taking steps to be a better consumer.

But if I ever change my mind, I still have the recipe for that macaroni and “cheese.”

- Cameron Hubbard is the variety editor for

The Red & Black.