Start with the crispy cauliflower, which is flash-fried and covered in a sweet chili sauce so scrumptious that it will make you swear off sweet-and-sour chicken. Then order the sublime loaf, a mixture of lentils, brown rice, water chestnuts, and couscous that will convince you that all meatloaves ought to have "meat" in quotes. Hope your dining partner orders the enchiladas, a mixture of brown rice, black beans, faux cheddar, and shredded gardein (a surprisingly good fake meat product), all covered in a heavily spiced red sauce; it'll prove that Tex-Mex doesn't need to include Holsteins. Finish with the soy-based key lime cheesecake so perfectly tart and sweet that it just might make you vow to never eat any product that involves milking again. OK, maybe you'll forget all this and order a steak tomorrow. But Sublime — this paradise for vegetarians in a sea of meat eaters, this ideal of a restaurant that donates its profits to animal causes, this behemoth of eating with a conscience that seems plopped down from some other metropolis — will redefine your idea of vegan.