You can eat well in Philadelphia and not kill a single living thing (well, maybe an azuki). You can trust me on this: I'm not a vegetarian. In fact, I love hoagies, cheesesteaks, barbecued chicken, mesquite-grilled breast of wallaby and pan-blackened spotted owl in a light lemon sauce. I think organic brown rice is for cultists. I think tofu is for sissies. And I think gluten is to a meal what AstroTurf is to baseball.
But many of my friends have become vegetarians, either to protect their health or to salve their consciences. Where to dine with them is a complicated issue. Sure, plenty of restaurants offer non-meat dishes, and even alternative vegetarian menus, though it's a trifle awkward to be putting away a honey- roasted boar's leg au poivre while your dinner partner's eating bean curd. Many vegetarians prefer to eat in vegetarian restaurants and, even if they're