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nless you’ve sat down to a bowl of lukewarm soya, the colour and consistenc­y of wet soil, cooked over a paraffin stove, on a campsite, as those around you tuck into sizzling sausages, you will never truly understand the horror of being a vegetarian in the Nineties. Until you’ve bitten into another near-raw lump of aubergine at a meat-smeared barbecue, or smiled sourly as you’re told to ‘just pick out the bacon’ by your waiter, you’ll never understand how far we’ve come. When Cara Delevingne posts pro-vegan propaganda photos on Instagram and your Facebook feed is littered with former party girls getting high off their allotment crops, you know vegetables are sprouting a new social status. When Berlin sex shops start selling vegan whips made from old bike inner tubes and Stella

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