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This was Friday and I've been thinking about it ever since.
I'm vegan, about two and a half years now, and I do the baking for stuff at work because I'm the only one who bothers. We had a leaving do on Friday and I made two trays of brownies the night before, in my kitchen, at eleven at night after a shift, which turns out to be relevant.
I live in a houseshare. Our fridge is a war zone.
My block of vegan baking butter and my housemate's dairy one are the same brand, the same gold foil, the same size, and they live on the same shelf in the door.
You can probably see where this is going.
So I bring them in, I put them out, and because there's another vegan on my team and I wanted her to actually have something she could eat for once, I said it out loud to about fifteen people, "these are vegan, I made them", and she had four of them and told me they were the best thing she'd eaten in ages and asked for the recipe, and I was so pleased with myself that I said the same thing to two more people at the buffet table, and then I got home at half seven and opened the fridge to make dinner and saw my vegan block sitting there completely unopened.
She's been vegan ten years. Ten.
I texted her that night, because there was no version of this where I don't tell her. She was lovely about it, said these things happen. She also said "I did wonder why they tasted different", which I'll be hearing in my head for the rest of my life.
I ate three of them myself as well, so.
TL;DR: baked with my housemate's dairy butter by mistake, announced to a room full of people that the brownies were vegan, and fed four of them to a coworker who's been vegan for a decade
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