That reminds me of a lecture the poet, Gary Snyder (Japhy Rider for Kerouac readers) gave at a college several years ago. I guess he's something of a Buddhist, and when a young coed asked him during the Q&A period about his diet, he replied that he ate whatever he was served, and yes, that included meat. This was very troubling to the young woman, because later on she asked him again about his diet and about his sincerity and so forth. Well, he got impatient with her and finally told her, "Look, sometimes I even subscribe to the maxim of my redneck friends,"If it ain't meat, it wadn't meant to be eat.""With that the young woman finally sat down shell-shocked, her preconceptions about Bhuddism thoroughly demolished. I had to leave the lecture hall so I could howl with laughter. I have never been so tickled before or since.
Let's say he imagines he's something of a Buddhist. To actually be a Buddhist means a life of strict sense control and renunciation.
It has always seemed like the height of rudeness to accept a dinner invitation and then expect the host to meet one's dietary requirements. My favorite dish is anything I don't have to prepare.