Sometimes in life, people don’t get their vegetable lasagna. And sometimes it’s OK to mistake the sausage-ridden lasagna for vegetable lasagna, but sometimes that bad luck hits a vegetarian or a Jew (or both), and then it’s not OK.

So here’s the daily diner reconnaissance for this herbivore: “Is that vegetarian? OK, you sure? There’s no meat in there?” I grill them like that because I’ve been vegetarian from the cradle and couldn’t identify a stuffed turkey if it poked my eyes out with its wishbone. (I’m zealously strict about it – that’s because I’d much rather have Babe snorting around on the farm, not for religious reasons.) The server then usually points to the menu card as if to triumphantly put the question to rest.

Last week, I was triply assured by the woman clad in business casual behind the counter at South Campus Dining Hall, that yes, the crusty chunk on my plate was vegetable lasagna. After tasting something foreign in my first reluctant bite, I turned it over to my lunch companion who confirmed that my lasagna was indeed smothered in sausage, not tofu. I huffed over to the manager, angrier than Erin Brockovich could ever be, and got hit back with a defense first, and then an offer for a free lunch. But first, some complimentary therapy from another accompanying female manager: “What’s done is done, relax. You can’t do anything about it now.” Think again, lady.

First off, know that a vegetarian doesn’t eat red or white meat or fish. (Here’s your litmus test: Did it used to breathe?) Some are vegan (no dairy or eggs), some are born-again veggie-eaters, and some have religious restrictions. (Others call themselves vegetarians because they don’t eat red meat. I call them posers.) We all give up a degree of comfort by eating among the chaotic orgy of diets in the diners. We also place our trust (and dubious hopes) in the people who serve us food. Right now, they’re outside my circle of trust. How will I let them back in?

Here’s where to start: I want to see a clear separation of meats, cheese and vegetables. The salad bar is a staple of the vegetarian diet, and the only place we can count on seven days a week. Putting cheese next to the meats for our butterfingered student body is a bad idea because they end up mixing like cocktails.

I would also like for the servers to know what they’re dishing out. Being ethically or religiously against eating meat is one thing. A critical or fatal allergic reaction from some wrongly identified food is much worse. Stay in the ballpark, now. If someone is allergic to nuts, delicately sautéed peanut sauce won’t do much for them.

Have separate utensils made available upon request for vegetarian food among non-vegetarian counters. It seems picky, but these measures would thicken the line between meat and no-meat at virtually no cost and little training. I don’t want to be served my vegetables in the same scooper as the buffalo wings. A vegetarian doesn’t want the stuff that isn’t vegetarian. There should at least be a reasonable level of awareness and consideration concerning this.

These changes would not be in vain: A 1999 survey by the National Restaurant Association found that as many as 20 percent of college students consider themselves vegetarian, and that number is rising fast. Another survey by ARAMARK, a food service company, found that in a survey of 100,000 college students, one-fourth said that finding vegan meals was important to them. The people are asking for it.

Maryland is riding the trend with the vegan Sprouts counter at the North Campus Diner, but veganism and vegetarianism are no longer for after-school hippie tie-dye cults. They’re worth more than just one counter. Unlike your North Face jacket and butt-crack jeans, they are lifestyles that are here to stay. A Diamondback article from Oct. 3 reported that Dining Services is considering adding a vegetable grill at the South Campus Dining Hall to increase its vegan options. If correctly identifying meat versus vegetarian food is going to remain this precarious, the committee should consider expanding that concept to include vegetarian food too. There is certainly a market for it, so hurry it along. My roommate – vegetarian, kosher-keeping and an avid follower of my interrogation method – could have done without the shrimp-laced egg roll.

So there’s my beef. Now get rid of it.

Nandini Jammi is a freshman English major. She can be reached at jammin@umd.edu.