A vegan life is one without roast chicken or matzah ball soup; chopped liver, herring or gefilte fish. If anyone tells you these dishes can be replaced by experimental tofu and seasoning, they're lying.
I love food and have no time for faddy eaters, but, took up the challenge to set out on a week-long experiment to determine whether veganism was compatible with a Jewish lifestyle.
I sought advice from Lara Smallman, director of the Jewish Vegetarian Society, who, unsurprisingly, said it was. A vegan herself, the 30-year-old claims it was the only diet compatible with Jewish values, like "tza'ar ba'alei chayim" (which prohibits the unnecessary suffering of animals). Slaughterhouses and dairy farms - kosher or not - breach the principle, she claimed, adding: "If you don't like animal cruelty, you won't eat dairy, full stop. It is very hard to give up food you like the taste of, so you need to have something to motivate you to do so."
Smallman advises members to cook more and encourage family to be more accommodating. For north-west Londoners, she points out that Grodzinski sells a water-based challah (as does King's) and Carmelli stocks vegan biscuits.
Is a traditional Shabbat meal possible for vegans? "You can make an imitation chicken soup with soy sauce, herbs and vegetable stock and you could imitate a roast chicken, but if you do that people will compare it to the original," she cautions.
"Why not try mezze, roasted aubergine and cauliflower? The manufactured meat alternatives usually have no nutritional content because their top priority is to replicate the original product. It's empty calories. It's good if you're trying to wean yourself off meat, but not long term because they are also so high in salt and fat."
She suggests I plan my meals for the week. I've never planned a meal in my life! Surely changing your diet shouldn't involve changing your character?
Still living at home, I asked my mother whether she would adapt our family dinners - usually a bowl of rice, meat or chicken and salad - for a vegan diet. "You can just have the rice and salad, right? I'll make extra vegetables."
The first night went fine. The second was tougher. Family friends were visiting and mum laid out homemade kebabs, meat and okra stew, chicken and potatoes and red rice stirred with deep-fried noodles. I felt excluded.
Petulant, I cancelled dinner plans at my favourite Latin American restaurant the next evening. Rather than watch others dine on salmon ceviche, tuna tiraditos and chocolate fondant. I plumped for Israeli pickles, carrots and black coffee alone.
Aside from that stubborn evening, I didn't starve. I embraced the lifestyle, seeking advice from fellow vegans on where to dine. I ate jackfruit burrito and "to-fish" tacos at Camden Town's Mexicana. At Borough Market, I sampled vegan mushroom burgers and Indian chickpea curries. Pret A Manger's one vegan option, the hummus and falafel mezze, went down fine.
In central London, options are plentiful. The same cannot be said for north-west London. In Holland & Barratt on Golders Green High Road, I met a Jewish vegan stocking up on core vitamins her diet lacks: B12, iron, calcium.
She admitted: "I don't eat out with friends anymore. There's not much on offer for vegans, and what there is, I can make myself at home." Peering into my basket, she shook her head at the substitute snacks. "Take out the gimmicky stuff. Keep the almond milk and quinoa and head to the local grocers and make something for dinner."
I did. Armed with aubergines, I headed to a friend's flat. She glazed them with miso, boiled brown rice and broccoli and tore up seaweed strips. The aubergine was fab; the rice dish could have done with some salmon. We baked - without milk or eggs - vegan brownies with pecan nuts. They tasted fine but would have benefited from milk chocolate buttons.
I also looked to the professionals booking a table at The Gate, the widely-acclaimed vegetarian and vegan restaurant founded by two Indo-Iraqi Jewish brothers. The chain - set to open its third branch in Marylebone - is inspired by their grandmothers' cooking, "blended Indian and Arabic cuisines with the traditional Jewish food".
My aubergine miso starter was delicious, Craving hot food, I asked the waiter for a dish that fitted the bill. He suggested the tofu salad, which was cold. The Eton Mess dessert was fine, if not as good as a dairy one.
The Gate's co-founder Michael Daniel, 49, says the vegan revolution is taking off and the planet is better off for it. However, despite the success of veganism in Tel Aviv, he says the British Jewish community is more cautious.
Towards the end of the week, I decided that being a vegan Jew was possible, but no fun. At Friday night dinner, I told my aunt I didn't need the challah and that I could do without the chicken and lamb chops. I pretended that I was fine with potatoes, cauliflower and beetroot, before gratefully accepting a black tea from my uncle at the end of the meal. The tea tasted good - too good. I wondered why, and then it dawned on me: the honey.
Spotting my face and realising the error, my family keeled over in stitches. The experiment had failed: it wasn't possible, for me at least, to partake in a Jewish meal without breaking the vegan diet, no matter how good the intention.
The moment I let my guard down, I had lapsed. After a whole week endlessly Googling ingredients, however, I felt healthier but hadn't anticipated the social exclusion that comes from separating your diet.
Weeks on, I still feel a pang of guilt when I eat. Attempting to buy more ethically sourced produce has helped but I still find myself thinking about the male chick, the egg; the cow and her milk. I find myself thinking about the vegans abstaining from it all. And above all, I also find myself wanting to ensure that nothing we put in our mouths has resulted from the unnecessary suffering of animals.
