A few years ago, my great aunt visited the family. She was my mom’s brother’s wife’s mother. My mom’s brother (my uncle) passed away when I was 3. After that happened, my great aunt took an oath. That she would never eat anything that touched a dead animal in order to protect the remaining family.

She couldn’t eat food made in pots or pans that had cooked animal food. Or anything with grease or oil. Not even eggs. It was more than vegetarianism or veganism. To a Westerner (like me), it was almost absurd. It was a simple Buddhism. But we respected her wishes. My mom cooked her food packaged in a clean tupperware container to bring when the family ate out. It worked well in Chinese restaurants where there was always a microwave and ready rice.

Until my great aunt demanded that they eat at my favorite restaurant. At the time, it was Chow in Lafayette, rated among the top 100 in the Bay Area. My parents protested, but my great aunt insisted. And so we went.

There I ordered my favorite dishes, recommending to everyone…except my great aunt. When the server came, I mentioned that my great aunt couldn’t eat most things on the menu. The server immediately suggested the bread. But my great aunt knew she couldn’t eat that…a pan touched by animal oils. “We have wonderful vegetarian selections,” he said.

And we shook our heads. When our dishes arrived, we asked the server if he could heat up the food my mom prepared for my great aunt. A microwave perhaps? But he shook his head saying that no microwave existed. He suggested that one of the chefs could heat it up in a pan, but my great aunt shook her head. My parents started making a fuss about how we should have eaten somewhere else, but my great aunt shushed them, saying that it was important to eat my favorite restaurant. Guilt crept up my arms as I ate.

And well really, nobody in her family has passed away suddenly.