Flying Pigs

The world is a-changing, folks.
Two years ago, a black man was elected President of the USA.
And yesterday - for the first time in history - The Firm's Special New Year Meal (a cousin of the equally renowned Christmas Meal) offered.... a vegetarian option.

OK, this radical new option was not actually on display or anything. It was merely hinted at by a lowly member of the canteen staff (a mere table wiper, if you will)... who passed on the rumour of its existence with the hesitant air of a druggie whispering the name of a dealer.

It had to be asked for. And the first waitress to whom I mentioned it responded with a look of complete and utter blankness. The second one too, actually.
But the third one nodded gravely, instructed me to wait a moment, bobbed out into the mysterious "back room" of the canteen... and reappeared minutes later with something strongly resembling a vegetarian paella.

My hands trembling, I beheld the dish of yellow rice that was placed before me.
No doubt: this was a turning point in the culinary history of south-western France.
Us vegetarians (or rather: I, vegetarian) can at long last exist alongside the eaters of pigeons, innards and fattened geese. We can approach the ordeal of the twice-yearly meat fest with serenity. We can come out of the closet! Vegetarians of France, je vous ai compris!