It's now been a few weeks since the palm oil-free lifestyle change kicked in fully. I'm still alive, my hair hasn't fallen out or my face dissolved from the switch to bicarbonate of soda and lemon juice for washing, and I have yet to offend any restaurant owners.
I have, however, discovered that I am allergic to the first type of palm oil-free soap that I tested. I initially wondered (but not enough to arrange an appointment with my local friendly health practitioner) what horrendous flesh-eating bacterium (albeit slow eating) or skin-inflaming virus I had been inflicted with, thanks to the non-stop itching that I had been suffering from for a good ten days.
A fortuitous decision to test the Palestinian olive oil soap I had purchased demonstrated the medicinal strengths of West Bank cleaning products, as both the bacterial infection and viral plague were swiftly eliminated. Or perhaps simply didn't contain the ingredient to which I am apparently allergic.
Either way, issue solved. Itching gone, a product to wash with discovered and palm oil banished from one part of my life.
To date I have had two opportunities to question waiting staff about the oil source of meals that I have eaten. The first, a very average vegetarian risotto, listed olive oil in the name of the dish. In retrospect, I should have suggested that they buy a better olive oil and learn how to cook risotto.
The second occasion involved a vegetarian Thai green curry and may well have contained some sort of oil but it didn't occur to me to ask at the time. Not least because my friend and I were struggling to make ourselves understood by the hapless woman employed by the restaurant, ostensibly to serve customers. At least it tasted pretty good. Not a sterling example of investigating what one eats though, is it?
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