Want to win a copy of Bryant Terry's new cookbook, Vegan Soul Kitchen: Fresh, Healthy, and Creative African-American Cuisine? Just head on over to Vegans of Color where I am giving away one copy to any U.S. resident who leaves a comment telling me what their favorite soul-warming dish is.
Even if you don’t win the copy, check out this book, which includes mouth-watering food and drink recipes like Cajun-Creole Spiced Tempeh Pieces with Creamy Grits, Frozen Memphis Mint Julep, Roasted Plantain Pieces with Roasted Garlic-Lime Dipping Sauce, Sweet Cornmeal-Coconut Butter Drop Biscuits, and many more.
Showing posts with label culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label culture. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
Random Fridays: New Favorite Blogs and Something for the Dogs
* Vegbrarian is the musings of a vegan librarian. I love "Activism in the Stacks," which gives tips on how to increase the number of veg-friendly listing your local library houses, including:
* I listed Vegan Guinea Pig in my roundup of vegan cookbooks coming out this year. Check out the extensive product reviews, including white chocolate chips, and recipes for Papa Chorizo Frittata, which just looks yum.
* My Tea Cups is one Philly blogger's take on everything tea. She's been kind enough to share with me some Philly tea spots I have yet to visit, like Remedy Tea Bar and TBar. She also makes and sells the most adorable haiku teacups on etsy that honors all that is great about tea and the city of Philadelphia. My favorite is:
* I found Me, Myself An Eye after Sister Toldja's post on why white people shouldn't attend Obama's inauguration was featured Jezebel . It was satire but many commenters on Jezebel just didn't get it. The blog's banner includes images of RuPaul, an "I heart tofu," t-shirt, and false eyelashes, which was more than enough reason for me to add her to my feed.
* Through Me, Myself An Eye, I discovered Bed-Stuy Banana, which hooked me right away with its astute, personal take on gentrification and more than a few pictures of provocative or downright mystifying neighborhood signs.
* Punk Rock Human Resources gives the real deal on the HR job selection process. She also loves cats, calls out irresponsible dog breeders (though I argued in the comments that responsible dog breeding is an oxymoron), and states why the First Lady should get paid.
* And won't you please consider donating a Kuranda bed to your local shelter?
* What Brian and I will be up to this weekend:
Even if you skim through books you don't want to check out, leave a few on
a nearby table, study carrel or shelf. Books that are left on these surfaces are
routinely collected and scanned for in-house use, which can impact collection
development. Pulling books out of the stacks may also attract passerby who
otherwise would not have gone to the stacks.
* I listed Vegan Guinea Pig in my roundup of vegan cookbooks coming out this year. Check out the extensive product reviews, including white chocolate chips, and recipes for Papa Chorizo Frittata, which just looks yum.
* My Tea Cups is one Philly blogger's take on everything tea. She's been kind enough to share with me some Philly tea spots I have yet to visit, like Remedy Tea Bar and TBar. She also makes and sells the most adorable haiku teacups on etsy that honors all that is great about tea and the city of Philadelphia. My favorite is:
listen to the sound
of the teapot as it sings
water leaps inside
* I found Me, Myself An Eye after Sister Toldja's post on why white people shouldn't attend Obama's inauguration was featured Jezebel . It was satire but many commenters on Jezebel just didn't get it. The blog's banner includes images of RuPaul, an "I heart tofu," t-shirt, and false eyelashes, which was more than enough reason for me to add her to my feed.
* Through Me, Myself An Eye, I discovered Bed-Stuy Banana, which hooked me right away with its astute, personal take on gentrification and more than a few pictures of provocative or downright mystifying neighborhood signs.
* Punk Rock Human Resources gives the real deal on the HR job selection process. She also loves cats, calls out irresponsible dog breeders (though I argued in the comments that responsible dog breeding is an oxymoron), and states why the First Lady should get paid.
* And won't you please consider donating a Kuranda bed to your local shelter?
* What Brian and I will be up to this weekend:
- a massage for me at Juju (my neck is totally giving up on me), courtesy of a gift certificate from Brian
- buffet lunch at Essene (I can't go to Juju without this)
- a free cooking demonstration by Horizons chef and owner, Rich Landau, at Foster's
- maybe Wendy and Lucy if Brian doesn't drown in school work
- vegan chili at a friend's house
- some damn sleep
Monday, April 28, 2008
Baseball's Vegetarian Prince
From a New York Times article, "Meat Is Out at Fielder’s Plate," on Prince Fielder of the Milwaukee Brewers. Originally linked by Vegan.com. Emphasis is mine:
The article also makes mention of Tony Gonzalez of the Kansas City Chiefs, who is vegan. It's so great to see mainstream media coverage of vegetarian and vegan diets from people who don't fit the supposed veg mold--athletes, black men, Hispanic men, former Porterhouse steak devourers. I find articles like this inspiring. Although I have no problem walking right past the meat counter without looking (in fact, I try not to look), I do still look longingly at the cheese and pastry aisles. Knowing so many people easily eat, move, and live well without meat, eggs and dairy gives me motivation to keep at what has been the biggest and most exciting life changes I've ever made.
Mutual Menu is giving away one copy of Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World by Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero. To enter to win and for more details, please leave one comment here.
Fielder, 23, decided to make the switch over the winter after
reading how cattle and chickens were treated and “was totally grossed
out,” he said. His wife, Chanel, preferred a no-meat diet as it was, so
he embraced a new approach.
Fielder had been as carnivorous as your average puma — pushing 200 pounds
since he was 12, he scarfed down a 48-ounce porterhouse as a teenager and had
barely slowed down since. (He played last year with 270 pounds on his 5-foot-11
frame, not all of it muscle.) But he figured he could get his protein from beans and shakes instead of meat and fish, leading to conversations since the beginning of spring training that have grown quite tiresome...
"Yeah, I’m a vegetarian — but still, some things are just nasty,” Fielder
said. “I like salads. But sometimes, they get too creative. I like
regular food, just no meat in it.”
Muscles cannot tell the difference between the protein found in soy
burgers and poultry, [Leslie Bonci, the Brewer's nutritional
consultant] said, so eating one or the other should not affect something
even as timing-sensitive as hitting a baseball...
Less than 24 hours later, Fielder stood in the batter’s box against one of
baseball’s best young left-handers, Cole Hamels of the Philadelphia
Phillies. Fielder smoked two home runs in the Brewers’ 5-4 win. Less
filling, tasted great.
The article also makes mention of Tony Gonzalez of the Kansas City Chiefs, who is vegan. It's so great to see mainstream media coverage of vegetarian and vegan diets from people who don't fit the supposed veg mold--athletes, black men, Hispanic men, former Porterhouse steak devourers. I find articles like this inspiring. Although I have no problem walking right past the meat counter without looking (in fact, I try not to look), I do still look longingly at the cheese and pastry aisles. Knowing so many people easily eat, move, and live well without meat, eggs and dairy gives me motivation to keep at what has been the biggest and most exciting life changes I've ever made.
Mutual Menu is giving away one copy of Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World by Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero. To enter to win and for more details, please leave one comment here.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Everyone Is a Little Vegan
My friend just came back from Canyon Ranch and was going on about how lovely it was, how good the food was, how restorative restorative yoga was. Just listening to her made me want to go so I checked out the web site and looked over the menu. They clearly label vegan items, like miso soup and smoothies, which is really great. However, I noticed that some clearly vegan items did not garner a vegan sign next to it. Apparently, bananas, berries, melons, rice, and potatoes are not vegan.
When many people think of vegan food, they often think of tofu or fake meat strips. They are vegan and I happen to like both. We often forget that the fruits, vegetables, grains, beans, and nuts we are eating are vegan too. It’s strange that the completely unadulterated foods—almost all of which are vegan—don’t get labeled as such. Why are they not immediately deemed vegan by your average meateater, then? When Brian and I bring fruit salad to a lunch, it doesn’t get labeled vegan so everyone gobbles it right up. When we bring out the cake that doesn’t contain eggs and butter, though, trepidation often kicks in because it’s V-E-G-A-N. But it’s no more vegan than the fruit.
What makes a diet without meat and other animal products seem daunting is the idea that we will have to eat food that isn’t “real”, is too different, isn’t good enough. I certainly used to think that way and still have some of that thinking to a degree (hello, cheese). Thing is, I always ate vegan food even when I was an omnivore. The banana in my cereal, the beans on my rice, the salad for lunch—all vegan. We’re all eating vegan food all the time. Thinking that it’s an entirely foreign diet is inaccurate and makes something already familiar and available in abundance seem unnecessarily weird and lacking.
Mutual Menu is giving away one copy of Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World by Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero. To enter to win and for more details, please leave one comment here.
When many people think of vegan food, they often think of tofu or fake meat strips. They are vegan and I happen to like both. We often forget that the fruits, vegetables, grains, beans, and nuts we are eating are vegan too. It’s strange that the completely unadulterated foods—almost all of which are vegan—don’t get labeled as such. Why are they not immediately deemed vegan by your average meateater, then? When Brian and I bring fruit salad to a lunch, it doesn’t get labeled vegan so everyone gobbles it right up. When we bring out the cake that doesn’t contain eggs and butter, though, trepidation often kicks in because it’s V-E-G-A-N. But it’s no more vegan than the fruit.
What makes a diet without meat and other animal products seem daunting is the idea that we will have to eat food that isn’t “real”, is too different, isn’t good enough. I certainly used to think that way and still have some of that thinking to a degree (hello, cheese). Thing is, I always ate vegan food even when I was an omnivore. The banana in my cereal, the beans on my rice, the salad for lunch—all vegan. We’re all eating vegan food all the time. Thinking that it’s an entirely foreign diet is inaccurate and makes something already familiar and available in abundance seem unnecessarily weird and lacking.
Mutual Menu is giving away one copy of Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World by Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero. To enter to win and for more details, please leave one comment here.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Mutable Menu
I saw pigs in a truck while driving to work this morning.
I see many trucks on my commute along I-287 every morning and afternoon. I normally don’t check the trucks out unless one of them is obnoxiously and dangerously cutting off cars that are a fifth of their size, which happens often enough. The sides of the trucks are usually emblazoned with company logos for supermarkets, soda, moving companies.
The body of this truck carrying pigs had no logos, just metal open slates for air. I knew there were animals in there and peered to see what kind. At first, I could only see the walls of the truck, nothing else. As I got right beside it and took a better look, I saw the backs and tops of heads of pigs. Immediately my stomach dropped and I stopped looking.
For a few moments, I imagined what would happen if I followed the truck and tried to stop whatever was going to happen. The pigs were pretty big so I guess they were going to a slaughterhouse. I thought about just tailing the truck to wherever it was off to and pleading (screaming and crying) with the driver to let me have them. This seemed impossible for a number of reasons. One, I doubt any business person and animal-owner would hand over their property to me and I wouldn’t be able to afford what a truck full of live pigs probably costs (although I would have no problem being able to pay for the pigs once they are turned into ham, bacon and chops; I’m pretty sure pigs are cheaper when they’re dead). Also, who knows where the truck would end up? I’m already late on my way to work. Finally, what good would it do? Let’s say the truck and I end up in some alternate universe where my hysterics persuades all interested parties to hand over the pigs to me. Then what? I take them home? The dog has 100 new siblings?
I did what was practical, convenient and less painful. I drove way past the truck and went to work. I thought about how there didn’t seem to be that many pigs in that one truck given how much meat I see in a supermarket. I started thinking about how many trucks have to travel everyday just to fill up the Stop and Shop in my neighborhood, let alone all over the world. It seemed incomprehensible, the number of animals and miles. I thought about how this is the first time in my life I’ve seen pigs in a truck. I’ve seen horses before but never pigs or cows or chickens or sheep. The animals being transported and killed are truly invisible but once they are dead, processed and package, we can’t escape it. We don’t have to because it’s ok once they are in the refrigerated section. Just another product to pick up like the cereal and toilet paper.
When I told Brian about my idea for Mutual Menu, I wanted it to be about how vegans, vegetarians and omnivores could happily coexist without anyone’s proverbial feathers being ruffled, no dish being questioned. I’d write about making chicken and tofu using the same recipe or how I was buying all my steak from Whole Foods now because it’s humane. I was so excited and happy! Everyone would get their cake and eat it too. Just as quickly as the blog was up, though, I stopped eating chickens and pigs and cows. Then I stopped eating the fishes. Now it’s been a while since I’ve bought cheese but I’ll still eat it in a restaurant. I once told Brian that maybe we’d have to change the name of the blog if I went vegan because then the menu wouldn’t be so mutual. As soon as I said that, I didn’t need him to point out the huge idea I was missing. I realized which way the mutuality could go. I’d be extending it the animals. I didn’t have to change the name. I’d just change myself.
Mutual Menu is giving away one copy of Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World by Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero. To enter to win and for more details, please leave one comment here.
I see many trucks on my commute along I-287 every morning and afternoon. I normally don’t check the trucks out unless one of them is obnoxiously and dangerously cutting off cars that are a fifth of their size, which happens often enough. The sides of the trucks are usually emblazoned with company logos for supermarkets, soda, moving companies.
The body of this truck carrying pigs had no logos, just metal open slates for air. I knew there were animals in there and peered to see what kind. At first, I could only see the walls of the truck, nothing else. As I got right beside it and took a better look, I saw the backs and tops of heads of pigs. Immediately my stomach dropped and I stopped looking.
For a few moments, I imagined what would happen if I followed the truck and tried to stop whatever was going to happen. The pigs were pretty big so I guess they were going to a slaughterhouse. I thought about just tailing the truck to wherever it was off to and pleading (screaming and crying) with the driver to let me have them. This seemed impossible for a number of reasons. One, I doubt any business person and animal-owner would hand over their property to me and I wouldn’t be able to afford what a truck full of live pigs probably costs (although I would have no problem being able to pay for the pigs once they are turned into ham, bacon and chops; I’m pretty sure pigs are cheaper when they’re dead). Also, who knows where the truck would end up? I’m already late on my way to work. Finally, what good would it do? Let’s say the truck and I end up in some alternate universe where my hysterics persuades all interested parties to hand over the pigs to me. Then what? I take them home? The dog has 100 new siblings?
I did what was practical, convenient and less painful. I drove way past the truck and went to work. I thought about how there didn’t seem to be that many pigs in that one truck given how much meat I see in a supermarket. I started thinking about how many trucks have to travel everyday just to fill up the Stop and Shop in my neighborhood, let alone all over the world. It seemed incomprehensible, the number of animals and miles. I thought about how this is the first time in my life I’ve seen pigs in a truck. I’ve seen horses before but never pigs or cows or chickens or sheep. The animals being transported and killed are truly invisible but once they are dead, processed and package, we can’t escape it. We don’t have to because it’s ok once they are in the refrigerated section. Just another product to pick up like the cereal and toilet paper.
When I told Brian about my idea for Mutual Menu, I wanted it to be about how vegans, vegetarians and omnivores could happily coexist without anyone’s proverbial feathers being ruffled, no dish being questioned. I’d write about making chicken and tofu using the same recipe or how I was buying all my steak from Whole Foods now because it’s humane. I was so excited and happy! Everyone would get their cake and eat it too. Just as quickly as the blog was up, though, I stopped eating chickens and pigs and cows. Then I stopped eating the fishes. Now it’s been a while since I’ve bought cheese but I’ll still eat it in a restaurant. I once told Brian that maybe we’d have to change the name of the blog if I went vegan because then the menu wouldn’t be so mutual. As soon as I said that, I didn’t need him to point out the huge idea I was missing. I realized which way the mutuality could go. I’d be extending it the animals. I didn’t have to change the name. I’d just change myself.
Mutual Menu is giving away one copy of Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World by Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero. To enter to win and for more details, please leave one comment here.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Random Fridays: Piglets, Painters, Plasma and More
I know I may be one of the last people on the Internets to have heard about Randy Pausch’s “The Last Lecture,” but better late than never. His lecture was part of a series at Carnegie Mellon Univeristy where members of the university community would share everything they would want to share if it were the last lecture they were ever to give. I finally listened to Dr. Pausch's lecture this week and was definitely moved, not just by the fact that the lecture is among the last Dr. Pausch will give (he is dying of pancreatic cancer), but because I always enjoy learning how people who love their work accomplish that feat.
In life, Dr. Pausch says, you’ve got to decide if you’re a Tigger or an Eeyore. I can relate to melancholy Eeyore more than bouncy, cocky Tigger but I’ve decided that I'm neither. I'm more of a Piglet:
A ‘Very Small Animal’ with a generally timid disposition, he often conquers his
fears and seems to want to be brave…Piglet himself can read and write, at least
well enough for short notes.
In honor of all the piglets, why not sponsor a rescued one at Catskill Animal Sanctuary (CAS)?Being greeted by the pigs when Brian and I first visited last September was one of the highlights of our trip. The pigs were very gracious hosts and allowed us to rub their bellies and coo at their piglets. I loved all the animals there and I pretty much love all animals but I do have a soft spot in my heart for pigs.
A lighthearted blog post I enjoyed this week was on the site, Book A Week with Jen, where one entry explores the long ago and simpler days before Gossip Girl when the Sweet Valley Twins reigned.
This weekend, Brian and I are going to take his mom to the Lee Miller and Frida Kahlo exhibits at the Philadelphia Museum of Art (PMA). I’ve been dying to see the Kahlo exhibit for months and, though I’m not as familiar with Miller's life and work, after reading a bit about her in a Philly paper, I'm excited to see both exhibits. And yes, as I first time visitor to the PMA, I will be running up those steps a la Rocky.
Brian and I are also donating blood. I’d never donated blood before meeting Brian but he is a veteran. I didn’t know my blood type prior to donating and now I know that Brian and I share the same type, A positive (as a co-worker sarcastically remarked when I told him this fact, "How romantic"). It is the type that, according to the diet book, Eat Right for Your Type, means you should be a vegetarian, which, hey, I agree with. Other blood types should be too, though.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
There Will Be Typos
Because I really don't have time to post but I do have some stuff to say. Here's a small roundup of enjoyable and edifying links to hopefully whet your appetites as much as they did mine:
One of my favorite blogs, I Blame the Patriarchy (IBTP), has gone vegetarian! "Eating hamburgers and radical feminism are mutually exclusive."
IBTP links to a post on Gary Francione’s blog on the link between a certain faction of postmodern feminism and animal-welfarists. You know, the wink-wink Bust-reading/stripper-admiring kind, of which I was when I was like 19. Oh, and then there's a post on vegan strip clubs . Oy and vey. The hipsters make my head hurt even though I’ll be guiltlessly chomping on their vegan doughnuts when Brian and I head out to Portland, Oregon this June. Also, Brian and I think that only hipsters complain about hipsters...except for us. We complain but are not hipsters. We are thoroughly unhip and way behind the times.
Vive Le Vegan’s Dreena Burton has heaps and heaps of vegan recipes on Canada’s Food Network site. The chocolate raspberry truffle tart with coconut crust (swoon) alone is work a click or two over.
Finally, if you’re in Philly and looking for some tasty fast food, why not hit up the Viva Las Vegans food truck in University City. Actually, I cannot personally vouch for the tastiness of their goods as I have yet to eat there but Brian has. And he likes it.
One of my favorite blogs, I Blame the Patriarchy (IBTP), has gone vegetarian! "Eating hamburgers and radical feminism are mutually exclusive."
IBTP links to a post on Gary Francione’s blog on the link between a certain faction of postmodern feminism and animal-welfarists. You know, the wink-wink Bust-reading/stripper-admiring kind, of which I was when I was like 19. Oh, and then there's a post on vegan strip clubs . Oy and vey. The hipsters make my head hurt even though I’ll be guiltlessly chomping on their vegan doughnuts when Brian and I head out to Portland, Oregon this June. Also, Brian and I think that only hipsters complain about hipsters...except for us. We complain but are not hipsters. We are thoroughly unhip and way behind the times.
Vive Le Vegan’s Dreena Burton has heaps and heaps of vegan recipes on Canada’s Food Network site. The chocolate raspberry truffle tart with coconut crust (swoon) alone is work a click or two over.
Finally, if you’re in Philly and looking for some tasty fast food, why not hit up the Viva Las Vegans food truck in University City. Actually, I cannot personally vouch for the tastiness of their goods as I have yet to eat there but Brian has. And he likes it.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Guest Post: Will Death Do Us Part? by Sky Chari
This is a guest post by frequent Mutual Menu commentator and my longtime friend, Sky Chari.
It's a question posed by many who have fancied themselves philosophers over the years: are married couples really parted by death or do our souls live on together for all eternity (assuming you actually liked each other here on Earth to begin with)? When it comes to my husband and I, however, the death in question is neither his nor mine but dinner's. It’s not like I didn't know he ate meat when we started dating, or even when I married him. It’s not like he didn't know that I was a card-carrying PETA member and vegan advocate. So, how the hell does this work? To be honest, I don't even know some days. It definitely helps that we keep a vegetarian home. I just couldn't stomach having meat around. That being said, I do let in the occasional pizza or Doritos (he's not exactly into health food). When I come home from volunteering at a sanctuary for abused and neglected farm animals, Animal Place, disgusted with how people could be so reckless with themselves, the planet, and the animals, well, I let him know in the gentlest way possible exactly how I feel. He's heard my speech; he's even seen Earthlings, for goodness sake. His response? It's just not his thing.Yeah, I could kill him. I mean, I don't get how people could have all the information and still make the decision to eat meat.
In my particular case, I couldn't stomach the idea of killing animals for food from an early age, and started my journey toward veganism at age 11. Ironically, when my husband was the same age, he had never even touched meat. Raised in a traditional Hindu home, he was actually brought up as a vegetarian! However, by junior high, he'd had too many birthday parties at McDonald's to resist the temptation, and once Pandora's box was opened, it was impossible for him to close.
Don't get me wrong, my husband is a caring, kind, and insanely intelligent person. But he also happens to be a creature of habit and proximity. The reason it's easy to keep a veggie house is the same reason I can't keep a veggie husband--he'll eat whatever is in arm's length. The less he has to think about his food, the better. Granted, he's got a lot of other stuff to think about, running a company and all, but this is something about him I will never understand. I care about every single scrap that enters my mouth. I want to know where my food is from and all the ingredients that are in it so I can best judge what its effect on my person will be. He thinks I'm nuts.
So, have we just agreed to disagree and moved on? Actually, no. I still prefer that he become vegan, and he still knows it. I learned a long time ago, however, that nagging will get me nowhere. I have given him the space to make this decision for himself, all the while keeping him well informed and letting him know that I want him to live a long life with me. After all, nothing will make you live longer than letting other beings live long as well. It hasn't been easy or instantaneous by any means, but this tactic is working. He has long stretches of vegetarianism, and for now that is good enough for me. We are not unlike most couples in that we have our differences and issues. But being able to negotiate this emotionally charged subject has actually helped us through a number of other rough patches. At the end of the day, it is everything else about him that keeps me with him and thrilled to be so. This one blip on our radar is pretty major, but it is only one blip after all, and we manage it—some days better than others. Should kids ever come into the picture (not on the radar at all right now), all hell could break loose. Until then, he's my more-vegetarian-than-not husband, and I love him...to death.
Sky Chari is a flutist and teacher in San Francisco, CA, USA. When she's not dragging her husband to one of the town's great vegan restaurants, you can find her curled up on her couch watching the fog roll in (or, more preferably, out).
If you would like to share your story or tips on how you navigate being a vegan, vegetarian, or ominvore who navigates "interdietary" relationships, please leave a comment or send an e-mail to mutualmenu@gmail.com. We would love to hear from you and possibly share your story. Thank you!
It's a question posed by many who have fancied themselves philosophers over the years: are married couples really parted by death or do our souls live on together for all eternity (assuming you actually liked each other here on Earth to begin with)? When it comes to my husband and I, however, the death in question is neither his nor mine but dinner's. It’s not like I didn't know he ate meat when we started dating, or even when I married him. It’s not like he didn't know that I was a card-carrying PETA member and vegan advocate. So, how the hell does this work? To be honest, I don't even know some days. It definitely helps that we keep a vegetarian home. I just couldn't stomach having meat around. That being said, I do let in the occasional pizza or Doritos (he's not exactly into health food). When I come home from volunteering at a sanctuary for abused and neglected farm animals, Animal Place, disgusted with how people could be so reckless with themselves, the planet, and the animals, well, I let him know in the gentlest way possible exactly how I feel. He's heard my speech; he's even seen Earthlings, for goodness sake. His response? It's just not his thing.Yeah, I could kill him. I mean, I don't get how people could have all the information and still make the decision to eat meat.
In my particular case, I couldn't stomach the idea of killing animals for food from an early age, and started my journey toward veganism at age 11. Ironically, when my husband was the same age, he had never even touched meat. Raised in a traditional Hindu home, he was actually brought up as a vegetarian! However, by junior high, he'd had too many birthday parties at McDonald's to resist the temptation, and once Pandora's box was opened, it was impossible for him to close.
Don't get me wrong, my husband is a caring, kind, and insanely intelligent person. But he also happens to be a creature of habit and proximity. The reason it's easy to keep a veggie house is the same reason I can't keep a veggie husband--he'll eat whatever is in arm's length. The less he has to think about his food, the better. Granted, he's got a lot of other stuff to think about, running a company and all, but this is something about him I will never understand. I care about every single scrap that enters my mouth. I want to know where my food is from and all the ingredients that are in it so I can best judge what its effect on my person will be. He thinks I'm nuts.
So, have we just agreed to disagree and moved on? Actually, no. I still prefer that he become vegan, and he still knows it. I learned a long time ago, however, that nagging will get me nowhere. I have given him the space to make this decision for himself, all the while keeping him well informed and letting him know that I want him to live a long life with me. After all, nothing will make you live longer than letting other beings live long as well. It hasn't been easy or instantaneous by any means, but this tactic is working. He has long stretches of vegetarianism, and for now that is good enough for me. We are not unlike most couples in that we have our differences and issues. But being able to negotiate this emotionally charged subject has actually helped us through a number of other rough patches. At the end of the day, it is everything else about him that keeps me with him and thrilled to be so. This one blip on our radar is pretty major, but it is only one blip after all, and we manage it—some days better than others. Should kids ever come into the picture (not on the radar at all right now), all hell could break loose. Until then, he's my more-vegetarian-than-not husband, and I love him...to death.
Sky Chari is a flutist and teacher in San Francisco, CA, USA. When she's not dragging her husband to one of the town's great vegan restaurants, you can find her curled up on her couch watching the fog roll in (or, more preferably, out).
If you would like to share your story or tips on how you navigate being a vegan, vegetarian, or ominvore who navigates "interdietary" relationships, please leave a comment or send an e-mail to mutualmenu@gmail.com. We would love to hear from you and possibly share your story. Thank you!
Thursday, January 3, 2008
My Food Resolutions for 2008
One of its main tenets of Brazen Careerist's latest post on making resolutions you'll keep is that you should make only one or two goals. As someone who has made only one resolution that I've ever actually kept (vowing to lose weight January 8, 2005, doing so, and then keeping most of it for those three years), I've learned that a goal is not unlike writing an outline for a school paper: break down one idea into smaller, manageable parts. My overall culinary aim this year is to eat consciously, to really think about what I eat. Not obsess or create an eating disorder but to, as often as possible, think about if what I'm eating is what I want and if it supports my beliefs. To that end, here we go:
1. Learn how to grow a container garden
I don't know what happened this New Year's Eve but while my mother and stepfather were out partying (with silly string, no less) until 3 AM, Brian and I spent the evening making and eating hot-sauced glazed tempeh (recipe courtesy of Veganomicon), roasted sweet potatoes, and too-bitter rappini; doing a crossword puzzle; watching an episode of My So-Called Life; and then setting the alarm for 11:30 PM so we wouldn't miss the ball drop at midnight. The next day, I spent a few hours at Barnes and Noble looking through gardening books and decided that, this year, I really want to grow a plant of some sort without killing it in a few weeks. I'm very much settling into my slide into domestic middle-age. Anyways, I don't want to spend $4 for a bag of out-of-season sugar snap peas anymore. And I'm sick of buying fresh parsley and only using a few sprigs of it. With the world as crazy as it is, peak oil and all that stuff, I'd better learn to grow at least some of what I eat.
2. Eat more fruit (and a little dark chocolate in moderation) and less refined, processed sweets
Before I started Weight Watchers in 2005, my downfall was greasy Chinese takeout and lots of it. I enjoyed sweets but never gorged on them. Then after dieting for a while, my sweet tooth grew. Most of the extra weight I've put on this last year is due to my need for two desserts: one after lunch and one after dinner. I'm vowing to eat more fruit throughout the day and substituting my after lunch treat with fruit and if I want to be really decadent, maybe some dried mango (yum).
3. Eat out less and cook at home more
The rest of my weight gain is due to weekends of greasy vegan Chinese takeout, not bringing my lunch to work and eating out, or bringing an Amy's Organic frozen meal or another paltry serving of food to work and supplementing it with vending machine goodies. A main culprit of eating out more is not because I have an aversion to cooking but my lack of sleep and poor menu planning. To make sure I have the energy to cook at night, I'm aiming to go to bed just an hour earlier so I am less tired and have more energy and time to devote to properly planning what I'll eat all week.
4. Eat less cheese
This gives me no pleasure but it is an attempt at virtue. Do it for the cows. Besides, cheese has no nutritional value whatsoever, unlike eggs and fish (says the pesceovotarian). Any calcium and protein in cheese is negated by all the fat. Oh, the luscious fat. I'm no monk though so I think I'll start by just eating less of it. Rather than buying grocery store cheese every week and melting it on anything edible, I'll save my cheese indulgence for the really good stuff, the stuff that isn't neon and melted.
5. Eat more beans
Listen to the recent Food for Thought podcast on beans (the episode from December 14, 2007). Beans are a staple in many culinary traditions, including the Puerto Rican one I come from. As a child, I wasn't a fan of beans. I would only eat pigeon peas, or gandules, which my grandmother would make for me. Now there isn't a bean I won't eat. I'm particularly fond of pink beans, black beans, chickpeas, and cannellini beans . Canned or fresh, I'm going to make an effort to eat beans everyday. There's really no reason not to since canned beans are readily available, priced right and just a can opener away. My lunch salad today was elevated with the addition of chickpeas with sauteed onions (recipe below). And I'm not hungry nearly three hours later, miracle of miracles.
6. Cook and more soups and chilis
I'll concentrate on making soups, chilis, rice and beans and other large servings of beans, grains, and veggies that can go for a few days. If it tastes good, I don't mind eating the same thing three days in a row but I'll keep on hand some avocado, nuts, different sauces, already cooked tofu, an egg, etc. to keep things interesting for lunch and dinner.
7. Make my own granola and trail mix bars
This might be one of those pipe dream resolutions. I may just continue to buy Clif Nectar bars. But considering bars are just some grains, nuts and dried fruit binded together with some sticky syrupy sugar, it would be much cheaper to make it. If I get around to it, I can follow this recipe from Mother Earth Living.
8. Sign up for community-supported agriculture
With Philly's own Greens Grow right in Brian's neighborhood, we have no excuse not to buy shares in a local farm and pick up weekly boxes of fresh produce. Here's more information on their CSA.
Quick Chicks with Onions (vegan)
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
¼ medium yellow onion, diced
1 can (15 ounces) organic chickpeas, drained and rinsed
sprinklings of the following spices to taste:
ground cumin
ground cayenne pepper
dried Italian seasoning
salt
freshly ground pepper
Heat olive oil in small saucepan over medium heat. Add onions and sauté until translucent and just slightly browned—about five minutes. Add chickpeas, cumin, cayenne pepper, Italian seasoning, salt, and pepper. Stir well, cook for another 5 minutes or so (until chickpeas start to pop open) and taste and adjust seasonings to your liking as you go along. I like a lot of cumin and a generous dose of cayenne for flavor, bite, and a nice orange tinge. Chill and serve over salad or eat immediately.
1. Learn how to grow a container garden
I don't know what happened this New Year's Eve but while my mother and stepfather were out partying (with silly string, no less) until 3 AM, Brian and I spent the evening making and eating hot-sauced glazed tempeh (recipe courtesy of Veganomicon), roasted sweet potatoes, and too-bitter rappini; doing a crossword puzzle; watching an episode of My So-Called Life; and then setting the alarm for 11:30 PM so we wouldn't miss the ball drop at midnight. The next day, I spent a few hours at Barnes and Noble looking through gardening books and decided that, this year, I really want to grow a plant of some sort without killing it in a few weeks. I'm very much settling into my slide into domestic middle-age. Anyways, I don't want to spend $4 for a bag of out-of-season sugar snap peas anymore. And I'm sick of buying fresh parsley and only using a few sprigs of it. With the world as crazy as it is, peak oil and all that stuff, I'd better learn to grow at least some of what I eat.
2. Eat more fruit (and a little dark chocolate in moderation) and less refined, processed sweets
Before I started Weight Watchers in 2005, my downfall was greasy Chinese takeout and lots of it. I enjoyed sweets but never gorged on them. Then after dieting for a while, my sweet tooth grew. Most of the extra weight I've put on this last year is due to my need for two desserts: one after lunch and one after dinner. I'm vowing to eat more fruit throughout the day and substituting my after lunch treat with fruit and if I want to be really decadent, maybe some dried mango (yum).
3. Eat out less and cook at home more
The rest of my weight gain is due to weekends of greasy vegan Chinese takeout, not bringing my lunch to work and eating out, or bringing an Amy's Organic frozen meal or another paltry serving of food to work and supplementing it with vending machine goodies. A main culprit of eating out more is not because I have an aversion to cooking but my lack of sleep and poor menu planning. To make sure I have the energy to cook at night, I'm aiming to go to bed just an hour earlier so I am less tired and have more energy and time to devote to properly planning what I'll eat all week.
4. Eat less cheese
This gives me no pleasure but it is an attempt at virtue. Do it for the cows. Besides, cheese has no nutritional value whatsoever, unlike eggs and fish (says the pesceovotarian). Any calcium and protein in cheese is negated by all the fat. Oh, the luscious fat. I'm no monk though so I think I'll start by just eating less of it. Rather than buying grocery store cheese every week and melting it on anything edible, I'll save my cheese indulgence for the really good stuff, the stuff that isn't neon and melted.
5. Eat more beans
Listen to the recent Food for Thought podcast on beans (the episode from December 14, 2007). Beans are a staple in many culinary traditions, including the Puerto Rican one I come from. As a child, I wasn't a fan of beans. I would only eat pigeon peas, or gandules, which my grandmother would make for me. Now there isn't a bean I won't eat. I'm particularly fond of pink beans, black beans, chickpeas, and cannellini beans . Canned or fresh, I'm going to make an effort to eat beans everyday. There's really no reason not to since canned beans are readily available, priced right and just a can opener away. My lunch salad today was elevated with the addition of chickpeas with sauteed onions (recipe below). And I'm not hungry nearly three hours later, miracle of miracles.
6. Cook and more soups and chilis
I'll concentrate on making soups, chilis, rice and beans and other large servings of beans, grains, and veggies that can go for a few days. If it tastes good, I don't mind eating the same thing three days in a row but I'll keep on hand some avocado, nuts, different sauces, already cooked tofu, an egg, etc. to keep things interesting for lunch and dinner.
7. Make my own granola and trail mix bars
This might be one of those pipe dream resolutions. I may just continue to buy Clif Nectar bars. But considering bars are just some grains, nuts and dried fruit binded together with some sticky syrupy sugar, it would be much cheaper to make it. If I get around to it, I can follow this recipe from Mother Earth Living.
8. Sign up for community-supported agriculture
With Philly's own Greens Grow right in Brian's neighborhood, we have no excuse not to buy shares in a local farm and pick up weekly boxes of fresh produce. Here's more information on their CSA.
Quick Chicks with Onions (vegan)
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
¼ medium yellow onion, diced
1 can (15 ounces) organic chickpeas, drained and rinsed
sprinklings of the following spices to taste:
ground cumin
ground cayenne pepper
dried Italian seasoning
salt
freshly ground pepper
Heat olive oil in small saucepan over medium heat. Add onions and sauté until translucent and just slightly browned—about five minutes. Add chickpeas, cumin, cayenne pepper, Italian seasoning, salt, and pepper. Stir well, cook for another 5 minutes or so (until chickpeas start to pop open) and taste and adjust seasonings to your liking as you go along. I like a lot of cumin and a generous dose of cayenne for flavor, bite, and a nice orange tinge. Chill and serve over salad or eat immediately.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Creating a Read-Write Culture
Things have been quiet on my end in terms of the blog because I am in the process of writing a cookbook. A very, very small cookbook but one that requires any extra typing and thinking time I have. I am taking a cookbook writing course sponsored by Media Bistro and instructed by Corinne Trang. Corinne is teaching the class so much in a short four weeks, things about creating and structuring a recipe that I never realized while reading and using many of them. I'm really enjoying the process of just sitting with one set of ingredients and instructions for a good, long while, figuring out what to say and what not to say, and really thinking about why I would want to share a recipe, the story behind it. I'm reading the two cookbooks by my bed, Corinne's Essentials of Asian Cuisine: Fundamentals and Favorite Recipes and Mollie Katzen's Sunlight Cafe in a new light, amazed by the amount of detail, thought, and love that goes onto every page. I admit, I first loved cookbooks mostly because I just loved eating and wanted to make something to eat. That's definitely still true but now that I'm trying to write my own recipes and figure out what I want to say with a collection of them, I truly realize what an all-consuming, creative endeavor it can be, even separate from the cooking and eating (although, of course, eating will always be my favorite thing to do).
Anyways, when I opened a window to create this post, I intended to write a sentence or two about the class and just share this letter from Kristin Hersh about how being a culture of either producer or consumer is completely outmoded and how blogging and blogging about food in particular is really an enterprise of community, sharing, blurring, if not obliterating, the lines between reader and writer. But then I just had a whole bunch I wanted to say. It's always cool to be surprised as you're writing. It happens to me all the time. I really never know what I'll say until I do, no matter how sure I am of a point as it sits in my head. That's the funnest part. So, this isn't about food per se, but it is about sharing and art and that's all a part, a huge part, of food. So here are parts of Kristin's letter, which you can read in its entirety here. Then please listen to, share, and play around with her song "Slippershell."
As many of you may already know, CASH is an acronym -- it stands for the Coalition of Artists & Stake Holders. The name indicates just what we're all hoping to build here -- a coalition through which we blur the line that's traditionally stood between creators of content and the consumers of that content...
We're all stake holders here. We all stand to gain from a productive relationship. Maybe it will help to think of this relationship as a conversation...
Art is by nature a conversation. I'd like us to make it a community. Think about what you have to offer. Read-only culture is not enough anymore. We'd like you to treat this stuff as read-write...
What does read-write mean? Maybe as you're listening to "Slippershell", you're inspired to DO something: paint a picture, write an essay, make a video, remix, or even re-record the song. Please do so.
Anyways, when I opened a window to create this post, I intended to write a sentence or two about the class and just share this letter from Kristin Hersh about how being a culture of either producer or consumer is completely outmoded and how blogging and blogging about food in particular is really an enterprise of community, sharing, blurring, if not obliterating, the lines between reader and writer. But then I just had a whole bunch I wanted to say. It's always cool to be surprised as you're writing. It happens to me all the time. I really never know what I'll say until I do, no matter how sure I am of a point as it sits in my head. That's the funnest part. So, this isn't about food per se, but it is about sharing and art and that's all a part, a huge part, of food. So here are parts of Kristin's letter, which you can read in its entirety here. Then please listen to, share, and play around with her song "Slippershell."
As many of you may already know, CASH is an acronym -- it stands for the Coalition of Artists & Stake Holders. The name indicates just what we're all hoping to build here -- a coalition through which we blur the line that's traditionally stood between creators of content and the consumers of that content...
We're all stake holders here. We all stand to gain from a productive relationship. Maybe it will help to think of this relationship as a conversation...
Art is by nature a conversation. I'd like us to make it a community. Think about what you have to offer. Read-only culture is not enough anymore. We'd like you to treat this stuff as read-write...
What does read-write mean? Maybe as you're listening to "Slippershell", you're inspired to DO something: paint a picture, write an essay, make a video, remix, or even re-record the song. Please do so.
Friday, November 16, 2007
What Nigella Lawson Said to Me
After hell, high water, and rush hour traffic, I made it to the Whole Foods on the Bowery by 7 pm on the dot for the Nigella Lawson book signing. I had planned to get there a bit earlier so I could eat dinner at one of the many food stops in Whole Foods--which is built more like a mammoth Jersey mall rather than even your average gargantuan supermarket--before waiting on the line. But my plans were no match for the Lincoln Tunnel at 5 pm.
When I arrived, the line was already quite long. All I wanted to do was sit and eat one of the many vegetarianorganicfreetradeglutenfree power bars I was standing by, or at least one of the scented candles, which might have tasted better. I was so hungry and tired. But I had a mission to get a book signed and knew I could hit up the food bars afterwards.
I've met a few celebrities, or at least people who are somewhat well known and do work I admire. But I never really want to sit and talk with them. What will I say that isn't incredibly dorky? And by the time I think of something great to say, my 30 seconds with the sharpie will be up. I'm over my adolescent celebrity worship, that feeling that I just know someone, that they're actually heroic. We're all just people. But some are extradordinary and get some attention for it and it would be disingenuous to say I haven't been shaped by that.
I don't think I'd be interested in food writing or even doing this blog if I hadn't come across Nigella Lawson's books a few years back. Yeah, I've always loved to eat (too much so) so it's not like I was uninterested in food before dipping my toe, just a little, in the foodie world. I've always been really aware of food. It wasn't, however, until I started cooking more than pancakes and scrambled eggs for myself, learned to read and follow recipes, and referred to various food magazines and cookbooks, that I actually brokered some sort of peace with my relationship with food. I stopped feeling as guilty about sometimes being a glutton and saw it as both a new hobby and a way to sustain my body, just as we all do. Prior to that, food was some weird, painful punishing reward. Now I'm not as controlled by food and I enjoy it more. I have to eat and I'm lucky I can afford to eat everyday and have access to such an amazing variety of food so I might as well lose the guilt trip. Funny, the seemingly two extremes of foodieness and doing Weight Watchers taught me that.
I'm by no means totally resolved. I still want chocolate, bread, and cheese, and lots of it, when I feel stressed or depressed (only really, really high levels of panic can still my appetite). I've gained some "love" pounds, as people say, since being with Brian but it's really just because I stopped running and started eating out a lot more. I, like most women, regularly plan and scheme about what I can do to be thinner. But I'm a lot happier now, and more realistic, than say, 10 years ago in the food department. Everyone has their thing. One of mine happens to be food and eating it. There are worse vices, and lesser joys.
So, here's how it went.
Nigella: Hello.
Me: [dorkily, really, really dorkily] Hello. I'm such a huge fan so it's really great to meet you.
Nigella: Thank you. [reading the post-it of my name one of the organizers put on my book so she'd know how to sign it] You have such a beautiful name.
Me: [beaming] Oh, thank you!
[silence and then someone tells me to get behind the table if I want my picture taken. Nigella tells her she's getting very good at taking pictures. The girl takes our picture].
Me: Thank you very much. Have a good night.
Nigella: Thank you. You too.
She is so gorgeous in person. Incredibly porcelain skin, great posture, lovely smile, very gracious. Brian asked if she'd really be as hot in person as she is on TV with all the lighting and yes, she was. When I told him about the signing and I said, "She's so beautiful." He said, "Should I be jealous?" Um....
When I arrived, the line was already quite long. All I wanted to do was sit and eat one of the many vegetarianorganicfreetradeglutenfree power bars I was standing by, or at least one of the scented candles, which might have tasted better. I was so hungry and tired. But I had a mission to get a book signed and knew I could hit up the food bars afterwards.
I've met a few celebrities, or at least people who are somewhat well known and do work I admire. But I never really want to sit and talk with them. What will I say that isn't incredibly dorky? And by the time I think of something great to say, my 30 seconds with the sharpie will be up. I'm over my adolescent celebrity worship, that feeling that I just know someone, that they're actually heroic. We're all just people. But some are extradordinary and get some attention for it and it would be disingenuous to say I haven't been shaped by that.
I don't think I'd be interested in food writing or even doing this blog if I hadn't come across Nigella Lawson's books a few years back. Yeah, I've always loved to eat (too much so) so it's not like I was uninterested in food before dipping my toe, just a little, in the foodie world. I've always been really aware of food. It wasn't, however, until I started cooking more than pancakes and scrambled eggs for myself, learned to read and follow recipes, and referred to various food magazines and cookbooks, that I actually brokered some sort of peace with my relationship with food. I stopped feeling as guilty about sometimes being a glutton and saw it as both a new hobby and a way to sustain my body, just as we all do. Prior to that, food was some weird, painful punishing reward. Now I'm not as controlled by food and I enjoy it more. I have to eat and I'm lucky I can afford to eat everyday and have access to such an amazing variety of food so I might as well lose the guilt trip. Funny, the seemingly two extremes of foodieness and doing Weight Watchers taught me that.
I'm by no means totally resolved. I still want chocolate, bread, and cheese, and lots of it, when I feel stressed or depressed (only really, really high levels of panic can still my appetite). I've gained some "love" pounds, as people say, since being with Brian but it's really just because I stopped running and started eating out a lot more. I, like most women, regularly plan and scheme about what I can do to be thinner. But I'm a lot happier now, and more realistic, than say, 10 years ago in the food department. Everyone has their thing. One of mine happens to be food and eating it. There are worse vices, and lesser joys.
So, here's how it went.
Nigella: Hello.
Me: [dorkily, really, really dorkily] Hello. I'm such a huge fan so it's really great to meet you.
Nigella: Thank you. [reading the post-it of my name one of the organizers put on my book so she'd know how to sign it] You have such a beautiful name.
Me: [beaming] Oh, thank you!
[silence and then someone tells me to get behind the table if I want my picture taken. Nigella tells her she's getting very good at taking pictures. The girl takes our picture].
Me: Thank you very much. Have a good night.
Nigella: Thank you. You too.
She is so gorgeous in person. Incredibly porcelain skin, great posture, lovely smile, very gracious. Brian asked if she'd really be as hot in person as she is on TV with all the lighting and yes, she was. When I told him about the signing and I said, "She's so beautiful." He said, "Should I be jealous?" Um....
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Baking Power!
If you've never made a cake from scratch, you have to try it! What a rush!
Joselle walked me through my first, full-fledged lesson in cake baking this past Saturday. It was a real high; something we both needed after a two-hour literal walk along the trails of Center City Philly (i.e., the relatively new and forward-thinking Schuykill River Park and City staple Boathouse Row, along a sculpted Kelly Drive and Fairmount Park). We felt winded from rock climbing at the Water Works, and made our way over to the nearby Whole Foods before nightfall. Joselle and I sought out some dinner comestibles (as she would say) and a bunch of ingredients for a cake recipe selected from How It All Vegan, one of the two whole entries in my dusty collection of cookbooks. It was kind of like we were squirrels in search of sweet treats. And sweet treats we did uncover!
After a simple dinner experiment of pasta elbows slathered with Aldi tomato sauce and carmelized onions mingling among Trader Joe's Meatless Meatballs---accompanied by fresh salad and cooked broccoli blanketed in a layer of Earth Balance and salt---the Mutual Menu was prepared to bake. We were all set with utensils in hand, when Joselle shocked this cookie rookie with a single blunt statement: "We forgot the baking powder." I quickly replied with obvious naivete that there was a box of some in the back of my fridge. A few things I neglected to mention to my culinary queen: 1.) This box had been in the back of my fridge for more than two years; 2.) This box had been open for an equal amount of time; and 3.) This box contained baking soda, not baking powder! Neither of us was entirely sure of the difference, but Joselle's experience suggested there's a method to all this madness.
Off came the slippers as she and I put on our hiking sneakers to trek all the way across the street from my building to the Quick Stop, a cigarette-smoke infused former 7-11; the frequent rest stop for neighborhood vagabonds and junkies-with-the-munchies. Case in point, Joselle noticed that you can actually buy a pancake-sausage breakfast sandwich there for $.99. What a steal, I suppose, if you're not in the market for a vegan cake's missing baking powder like we were. And, although we never found said baking powder, we stumbled upon a fresh box of baking soda from said Quick Stop. The fact that the trusty Arm & Hammer logo was defending other nearby bakery sale items on the shelf sustained our optimism. The plan would proceed!
The next hour or two invited new experiences for me and increasing yawns for my instructor. A bleary-eyed Joselle advised her student on the importance of fresh ingredients and a gentle mixing form. And, since I consider myself a gentleman, I mixed the select contents of my retro-pink ceramic bowl, and we heated things up! We also licked all of the utensils in sheer abandon, considering there seems to be less of a threat of salmonella poisoning with vegan recipes. As for the vanilla cake with maple walnut fosting...it's all good! The baking soda didn't kill us. Instead, it just gave the candy-sweet cake a dense flavor similar to a soft pretzel. Since I'm from Philly, I guess that should taste like home, right?Joselle later researched this arcane difference between baking soda and baking powder. It seems that baking soda---although a considerable subsitute for the similar powder format---has a unique quality that helps to neutralize the acidity of traditional baking ingredients like buttermilk or citrus additives to make a recipe come together cohesively. Baking powder, on the other hand, is self-reliant in this regard. As a hypothetical solution to Saturday evening's dilemma, Joselle suggests adding a teaspoon of vinegar to the mixture to give baking soda something to neutralize; just a little source of satisfaction that we're all looking for in this world. If you find yourself in a similar scenario, give it a shot!
I've already managed to enjoy quite a few voluptuous slices of our creation since Joselle headed back to New Jersey on Sunday evening---but I tend to eat when I get depressed. And I get sad because---even more upsetting than watching such a sweet treat disappear with each passing meal---it makes me feel downright blue to see a woman so sweet suddenly retreat to her seemingly distant life once again. One day, the Mutual Menu's members will be able to be together without having to say goodbye to each other for another week every single Sunday night of the year. I just wish there were a way to eternalize such a great-tasting cake like the one we made together. Well, I guess it's back to the old mixing bowl and oven mitts!For the Mutual Menu's take on this recipe, please get in touch---or pick up a copy of How It All Vegan to add to your own dusty collection!
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Happy and Dead Animals!
I know we're all friendly and kumbaya here. We want to include everyone and all that crap. I understand that not everyone can or even wants to give up eating animals. Lord knows I still eat, and therefore murder, fish (mostly salmon and shrimp). And I torture cows with my cheese addiction. And damn if I don't miss eating bacon. But this is just ridiculous. Emphasis my own but not the exclamation point at the end of the statement. They actually added that all by themselves (!):
Take a look around Philip and Dorcas Horst Landis's sustainability-focused farm. Visit their pasture-raised turkeys and chickens, grass-fed cows and lambs, and pastured pigs and learn about the benefits of a grass-based diet to animal health and happiness. As a special treat, our picnic lunch will include grilled burgers from their own cows!
From the White Dog Cafe Foundation.
'Cause, ya know, nothing makes a cow happier than being hung and slit open from top to bottom and then churned through a grinder. I mean, I'd take that over a bubble bath anyday!
Let's just get real here. If you're going to eat meat, it makes you, the human, happy. Not the confined, stunned (if they're "lucky"), slit open, and churned animal.
I'm going to make some vegan German apple cake for Brian and me this weekend and if my wonky camera decides to work, perhaps you'll even see it in its autumnal glory. And that will make us all happy...and fatter.
Take a look around Philip and Dorcas Horst Landis's sustainability-focused farm. Visit their pasture-raised turkeys and chickens, grass-fed cows and lambs, and pastured pigs and learn about the benefits of a grass-based diet to animal health and happiness. As a special treat, our picnic lunch will include grilled burgers from their own cows!
From the White Dog Cafe Foundation.
'Cause, ya know, nothing makes a cow happier than being hung and slit open from top to bottom and then churned through a grinder. I mean, I'd take that over a bubble bath anyday!
Let's just get real here. If you're going to eat meat, it makes you, the human, happy. Not the confined, stunned (if they're "lucky"), slit open, and churned animal.
I'm going to make some vegan German apple cake for Brian and me this weekend and if my wonky camera decides to work, perhaps you'll even see it in its autumnal glory. And that will make us all happy...and fatter.
Friday, October 12, 2007
The Nature of the Beast
One of my favorite sayings as a vegan and angsty quasi-pacifist living in a city with an intolerably high murder rate is Kill two humans with one bullet. It's my cynical little spin on the equally deranged Kill two birds with one stone. I've been noticing lately just how many of these types of cliches have influenced my adult vernacular, especially as they relate to the most basic of human and planetary ethics and traits. There are the diet-influenced sayings like You are what you eat and An apple a day keeps the doctor away. Then there are all those that try to capture the singular characteristics of our animal kingdom. Here are a few examples: It's the nature of the beast; Birds of a feather flock together; Don't put the cart before the horse; Don't count your eggs before they're hatched; Don't put all your eggs in one basket; or, my favorite, Happy as a clam (which---up until recently---I always thought was Happy as a clown, since clowns seem like much more jubilant folk than clams).
Like most couples, friends, neighbors, family members, or colleagues who share a good portion of their lives together, Joselle and I frequently adopt each other's sayings and thoughts. Some are cliche; some are just plain malicious; and others are suprisingly profound. I've taken to Joselle's This is a slow boat to China when I think about how far off a non-exploitative, animal-friendly world really seems---despite our modern, sophisticated, semantics-obssessed society. Joselle has also commented several times as to how everyone (including the carnivore) is a vegetarian in some capacity, whereas vegetarians will not and cannot be omnivores; something that's always struck me as insightful and poignant. Pretty much everyone eats vegetables, regardless of where people are from or what the hell they believe. Folks like their legumes (Beans, beans are good for the heart). They relish their fruit and pastas and breads and all sorts of treats, which can surely still be savory without all the animal ingredients that industries try to throw at us. If that's truly the case, why do so many omnivores get turned off by the word "vegetarian"?
Maybe it's the nature of the human beast to always want to be in control of everything. After all, A dog is [human]'s best friend---not the other way around. I mean, even the language of these cliches implies the domination of humans over the rest of the animal kingdom. Even more, there are the suggestions of our need for control in the lifestyle choices that every single one of us makes about who, what, when, where, and why we eat what we eat. Vegans choose not to consume animal flesh or byproducts out of respect for the lives of other animal species, as well as in an effort to make a statement of sociopolitical oppostition to an industry that will bleed us all dry for the right price. Contrastingly, Joselle and I can't really seem to grill-wrap our heads around why so many omnivores cringe at the thought of plant-based ingredients for vegetarian dishes; at the thought of stepping foot in a vegetarian restaurant that represents healthy living and, hopefully, environmental consciousness; at the thought of eating a Heart Thrive instead of a Snickers bar from the vending machine. Why is this? Maybe it's the nature of the beast to be selective, opinionated, obstinate, and apprehensive for no clear reason.
In order for a truly effective mutual menu to work, it seems to me that everyone involved needs to have a full understanding---not just a superficial tolerance---of why we all make the decisions that we make. Whether we do something for ethics, for self-preservation (i.e., oftentimes protecting our own individual health, rather than selflessly focusing on the health of our greater environment), or for the sheer fact that we don't really care about anything accept what feels good to us, we as humans have the special gift of verbal language; a tool set that should theoretically allow us to carefully communicate our commonalities and differences with one another. That would be the first step. Beyond that, it'd be nice if we could learn to utilize an intelligence of the "superior species" to figure out how we can all just get along.
If we don't learn to compromise, then I guess birds of a feather will continue to flock together---at least until there are no more birds to stone. In fact, if we could just be a smidgeon more thoughtful about the decisions we make, maybe humans wouldn't seem so stoned themselves.
Like most couples, friends, neighbors, family members, or colleagues who share a good portion of their lives together, Joselle and I frequently adopt each other's sayings and thoughts. Some are cliche; some are just plain malicious; and others are suprisingly profound. I've taken to Joselle's This is a slow boat to China when I think about how far off a non-exploitative, animal-friendly world really seems---despite our modern, sophisticated, semantics-obssessed society. Joselle has also commented several times as to how everyone (including the carnivore) is a vegetarian in some capacity, whereas vegetarians will not and cannot be omnivores; something that's always struck me as insightful and poignant. Pretty much everyone eats vegetables, regardless of where people are from or what the hell they believe. Folks like their legumes (Beans, beans are good for the heart). They relish their fruit and pastas and breads and all sorts of treats, which can surely still be savory without all the animal ingredients that industries try to throw at us. If that's truly the case, why do so many omnivores get turned off by the word "vegetarian"?
Maybe it's the nature of the human beast to always want to be in control of everything. After all, A dog is [human]'s best friend---not the other way around. I mean, even the language of these cliches implies the domination of humans over the rest of the animal kingdom. Even more, there are the suggestions of our need for control in the lifestyle choices that every single one of us makes about who, what, when, where, and why we eat what we eat. Vegans choose not to consume animal flesh or byproducts out of respect for the lives of other animal species, as well as in an effort to make a statement of sociopolitical oppostition to an industry that will bleed us all dry for the right price. Contrastingly, Joselle and I can't really seem to grill-wrap our heads around why so many omnivores cringe at the thought of plant-based ingredients for vegetarian dishes; at the thought of stepping foot in a vegetarian restaurant that represents healthy living and, hopefully, environmental consciousness; at the thought of eating a Heart Thrive instead of a Snickers bar from the vending machine. Why is this? Maybe it's the nature of the beast to be selective, opinionated, obstinate, and apprehensive for no clear reason.
In order for a truly effective mutual menu to work, it seems to me that everyone involved needs to have a full understanding---not just a superficial tolerance---of why we all make the decisions that we make. Whether we do something for ethics, for self-preservation (i.e., oftentimes protecting our own individual health, rather than selflessly focusing on the health of our greater environment), or for the sheer fact that we don't really care about anything accept what feels good to us, we as humans have the special gift of verbal language; a tool set that should theoretically allow us to carefully communicate our commonalities and differences with one another. That would be the first step. Beyond that, it'd be nice if we could learn to utilize an intelligence of the "superior species" to figure out how we can all just get along.
If we don't learn to compromise, then I guess birds of a feather will continue to flock together---at least until there are no more birds to stone. In fact, if we could just be a smidgeon more thoughtful about the decisions we make, maybe humans wouldn't seem so stoned themselves.
Friday, October 5, 2007
Random Fridays: Cookies and Blogs and More
My good friend, Sky, recently did some tabling for Animal Place during the 8th Annual World Veg Festival, where Compassionate Cooks’ Colleen Patrick-Goudreau was speaking and doing a signing for her just-released cookbook, The Joy of Vegan Baking. Sky introduced herself to Colleen as a friend of mine and the two of them orchestrated the photo above.
Colleen has kindly allowed me to post the picture here as long as I place the disclaimer that she did not sleep much the night before. Well, she looks to be about the most adorable and cheerful of sleep-deprived people I have ever seen. But since she was gracious enough to create this message for me and always kind enough to answer my e-mails despite the fact that we have never met and I’m sure she gets a slew of e-mails daily, I will post the disclaimer, however unnecessary I think it is.
The real reason for posting the picture is to provide more incentive for anyone reading this to run out and buy The Joy of Vegan Baking (besides Sky, our most devoted, and possibly only reader, who already has her copy). I would recommend it to the novice baker, as this book is chock full of excellent and sound advice on baking techniques. The more experienced baker, especially one who can’t imagine making a cake without eggs and butter, will expand their cooking repertoire as Colleen shows you that vegan baking is a) not some new-fangled fad but a technique that has been used throughout the ages for various reasons and b) delicious. You don’t need chicken’s eggs and cow’s butter to make cookies. Believe me. Try eating Liz Lovely or Alternative Baking Company cookies and tell me you miss the yolks. Then bake your own using Colleen’s recipes. Beyond the many cookie, bar, cake, and muffin recipes housed in this collection, Colleen also shares recipes for pancakes, crepes, waffles, breads, puddings, smoothies, and so much more. For starters, I am dying to make the mango sticky rice and German apple cake. Besides all of this, you get a chart on various baking apples, the deal behind baking soda and baking powder, easy and cruelty-free alternatives to using eggs, milk, cream, and butter for baking, and indices that are broken down by type of ingredient and occasion. At the heart of this book, however, is Colleen's clear and eloquent explanation on her journey of becoming a joyful vegan and her reasons for this choice. As a pretty hardcore cookbook fan, I can safely say that The Joy of Vegan Baking is easily one of my favorites and one I am sure to refer to quite often.
In Addicted to Race’s podcast episode number 82, host Carmen von Kerchove reads a comment I posted about a previous podcast, which focused on bloggers of color. Go check it out to hear what I said.
Colleen has kindly allowed me to post the picture here as long as I place the disclaimer that she did not sleep much the night before. Well, she looks to be about the most adorable and cheerful of sleep-deprived people I have ever seen. But since she was gracious enough to create this message for me and always kind enough to answer my e-mails despite the fact that we have never met and I’m sure she gets a slew of e-mails daily, I will post the disclaimer, however unnecessary I think it is.
The real reason for posting the picture is to provide more incentive for anyone reading this to run out and buy The Joy of Vegan Baking (besides Sky, our most devoted, and possibly only reader, who already has her copy). I would recommend it to the novice baker, as this book is chock full of excellent and sound advice on baking techniques. The more experienced baker, especially one who can’t imagine making a cake without eggs and butter, will expand their cooking repertoire as Colleen shows you that vegan baking is a) not some new-fangled fad but a technique that has been used throughout the ages for various reasons and b) delicious. You don’t need chicken’s eggs and cow’s butter to make cookies. Believe me. Try eating Liz Lovely or Alternative Baking Company cookies and tell me you miss the yolks. Then bake your own using Colleen’s recipes. Beyond the many cookie, bar, cake, and muffin recipes housed in this collection, Colleen also shares recipes for pancakes, crepes, waffles, breads, puddings, smoothies, and so much more. For starters, I am dying to make the mango sticky rice and German apple cake. Besides all of this, you get a chart on various baking apples, the deal behind baking soda and baking powder, easy and cruelty-free alternatives to using eggs, milk, cream, and butter for baking, and indices that are broken down by type of ingredient and occasion. At the heart of this book, however, is Colleen's clear and eloquent explanation on her journey of becoming a joyful vegan and her reasons for this choice. As a pretty hardcore cookbook fan, I can safely say that The Joy of Vegan Baking is easily one of my favorites and one I am sure to refer to quite often.
In Addicted to Race’s podcast episode number 82, host Carmen von Kerchove reads a comment I posted about a previous podcast, which focused on bloggers of color. Go check it out to hear what I said.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Break for Blogs
Blogging takes commitment, time, and energy. Commitment is something Joselle and I definitely share...but we seem to be lacking in the whole time and energy department these days. We want to eventually get to a point where we can blog every day; something that seems as distant as aspirations of eventually being able to prepare meals together on a daily basis. It's certainly possible. In fact, Joselle and I are planning on it.
Beyond just living in the same city and getting more frequent access to one of these here computers, we just want to create together. We'd like to follow in the footsteps of Compassionate Cooks and Vegan Freaks everywhere (Joselle is officially addicted to podcasts like I'm now addicted to the whimsical storytelling and television utopia of Northern Exposure). We also want to follow in the footsteps of people everywhere who pursue their passions and whatever brings them joy without inflicting pain on the rest of the world.
I find happiness in the solace of you, Joselle. I love the way you're here for me, even when you can't be here with me. And I'm so grateful for how you---as the evolving omnivore of this relationship---compel me toward an even greater personal commitment to the welfare of animals and environment.
Beyond just living in the same city and getting more frequent access to one of these here computers, we just want to create together. We'd like to follow in the footsteps of Compassionate Cooks and Vegan Freaks everywhere (Joselle is officially addicted to podcasts like I'm now addicted to the whimsical storytelling and television utopia of Northern Exposure). We also want to follow in the footsteps of people everywhere who pursue their passions and whatever brings them joy without inflicting pain on the rest of the world.
I find happiness in the solace of you, Joselle. I love the way you're here for me, even when you can't be here with me. And I'm so grateful for how you---as the evolving omnivore of this relationship---compel me toward an even greater personal commitment to the welfare of animals and environment.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Home Base, Not Ham Base
Veterans Stadium implosion photo courtesy of The Tribune.
The latest issue of the Philadelphia Weekly has brought to my attention some exciting news about PETA's impression of a veggie-friendly City of Brotherly Love and Sisterly Affection (courtesy of the author of the Philadelphia Will Do blog). No longer the general locale of the former architectural monstrosity that was once Veterans Stadium, Citizens Bank Park offers a highly-social baseball institution with an old-fashioned feel and Philly neighborhood themes. Even better---as PETA noted---"The Bank" hosts eateries with actual vegetarian selections. Mock meat at a major Philadelphia cultural attraction like a sports venue is just plain rare.
I'm not a Phillies Phanatic like some. Actually, I'm not really into sports at all. I just enjoy going to ball games to celebrate the social summer element of gathering together with other people to yell and eat. Next Tuesday, I'll be joining my mom (sadly, not Joselle and my brother Johnny) for a work-sponsored event with the hometown team; something my mom, brother, and I've done for the past two years since The Bank opened. We get free food vouchers, which is the only reason I had any previous knowledge about the vegan burger options available. And Joselle can vouch for me that I'll certainly be seeking out the mock steak!
If you're at the game in Philly on Tuesday, keep an eye on the jumbotron to see me stuffing my face and immitating the renowned Harry Kalas: "That ball is outtttttaaaaaa here!!!"
Monday, August 13, 2007
Devising a Mutual Menu
In honor of what would have been my grandfather's 89th birthday this coming Thursday, my family and I are having a casual barbeque on Saturday. The last time we had a backyard cookout for my grampa was in 2005. I didn't know that that would be the last birthday party I would be able to throw for him, the last chance to make him a cake. On April 1 of this year, he died. I am incredibly grateful that I was able to be with him throughout his hospitalization with heart disease and during his actual very last breaths. I am very grateful that Brian and my closest friends were all there for me and my grandfather throughout those trials too. I seem to be more prone to crying now than in the first few weeks after his death. The fact that his birthday is three days away, that it will be the first time in my life I don't get to buy him a card and wish him a happy birthday hasn't entirely hit me. Still, it seems fitting to get together to eat and share time with my loved ones in his memory.
The greatest mark of my grandfather's illness to me wasn't so much his actual hospitalization or even the two known heart attacks he suffered. It was his drastic weight loss and muscle wasting. It was the fact that he stopped eating, stopped getting hungry, stopped being able to taste and enjoy food. That to me seemed the cruelest blow of all. I'd seen him in the hospital before and his heart failure and hypertension had become a part of him that had, for years, been so seemingly well-managed by medication that they became almost incidental. Surmountable, even. But not eating? He loved to eat. That was taken away from him.
As a former cook in the army, he also knew how to cook. As the years went on, his concoctions became questionable, and often unrecognizable as any familiar food item, but I remember his pizza, fried fish, coconut ice cubes. My grandmother, however, loomed larger in the shaping of my food history. She was one of Those grandmothers, the kind who baked delicious cakes without ever referring to a recipe. When I wanted a snack, she'd make me fried chicken. She got me to eat beans--a hated food as a child--with her arroz con gandules, which I nicknamed vitamin rice because the pigeon peas looked like little pills. But the remeberance of my grandmother is more like myth. Maybe she did use recipes and measuring cups but I just don't remember. My grandfather, though, was real. I watched him cook everyday for years (and then I watched him stop cooking). I watched him read the greasy Betty Crocker cookbook when he was bored and then, hours later, he would have made a pear upside down cake. My grandfather didn't care if he didn't have half the ingredients called for. He'd just make whatever. So pineapple turned to pear and sometimes he wouldn't even use flour. Not if he had Bisquick or corn meal instead.
Earlier this year, to watch him turn away from food when I had always watched him turn towards it--first by feeding me, then by feeding my grandmother when she stopped cooking a few years before she died, and then finally for our dog, who he always cooked for--was so frustrating and incomprehensible. I didn't understand. I just thought if we could make him eat, he'd come back home. He's so weak and skinny, he's not rebounding, that's what I heard. So, I'll just make him eat. I made him coconut rice pudding, bought him soup and cakes. All I had to do was bring food, make him eat it, and he would get better. But he never wanted to eat. The biggest conflicts in the hospital were about getting him to eat. Every day my mother, the nurses and doctors, and I would try, tell him why he needed to eat. He would just get so angry. I suppose the only thing worse than losing the will to eat is having everyone bug you about why you should eat. In fact, my last interaction with my grandfather before he really started dying was me finally getting him to drink some Gatorade and bickering over the jello cup he didn't want.
Despite all of that, it doesn't seem strange at all to eat in his honor. He spent most of his life doing it anyway. The one feature, no matter one's religion or background, that seems to be common after any death is the bringing of food from friends and neighbors. You eat after someone dies. Or else someone tries to get you to eat. I guess there are two ways to grieve: eat or don't eat. I eat. The first thing I wanted to read after my grandfather died was the introduction to the "Funeral" chapter in Nigella Lawson's Feast. And the first thing I wanted to make was the marble cake in that chapter. Baking tied and ties me to my grandparents. It may seem cruel, or at least like some kind of denial, to bake a cake and eat it after someone dies. Yet food is what keeps everyone going. How can you go on after someone you love has died is the question Lawson brings up in the chapter. But that's what death is. It's not just someone dying and leaving you. It's you having to keep going on without them.
Yesterday, Brian called me while I was at Wegman's, shopping for the week and picking up a few items for the barbeque. I told him about my friend's husband who only eats halal meat so I'll have to get fish for him (and me). And no pork in the arroz con gandules so Brian and the Guls, who are Muslim, and I can eat it. Let's try not to mix up the ribs with the veggie dogs when grilling. Oh, and do you want me to make grilled eggplant sandwiches with vegan red pepper aioli? You know, a break from Morningstar Farms? Brian laughed as I told him all of this, saying it really was a mutual menu and how our conversation should be my next post. When I started writing, I didn't anticipate getting into so much detail about my grandfather and death in general and how all of that is so tied to food (everything is tied to food for me). But I guess I just really needed to talk about all of that.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Resistance
Last Saturday, Brian and I were scurrying around to feed my dog, Luckie, before heading out to visit Brian's co-worker's home and then to the 30th birthday party of his dear, old friend. My dog hasn't eaten dog food in nearly a decade, after a case of retinal detachment caused Luckie to go blind out of nowhere for nearly a week. I had read about the horrible, disgusting crap (the flesh of diseased animals, plastic, uh, other dogs) that goes into pet food and the health-related conditions that go along with eating it. But it wasn't until my seemingly healthy 4 year old dog went BLIND that I finally decided to stop feeding him the stuff. Now he's 13 years old and, other than some arthritis on his right back leg, he still runs, jumps and loves, just with a bit of a limp. And while he used to leave his dry dog food untouched for days, he always licks his bowl of real food clean. Anyways, this meandering introduction leads to this: on Saturday, I had to buy the dog a chicken.
I bought him one of those readymade grocery store rotisserie chickens that I used to pick up for myself when I couldn't be bothered to cook after work. They are convenient and pretty tasty. Brian and I are hungry ourselves so we pick up Amy's Organic roasted veggie pockets for 2 for $4. But I buy the dog an $8 roasted chicken. Brian is floored.
While cutting up the dog's meat--with a knife and then shredding it with my hands and fingers--I tell Brian that it doesn't gross me out to handle meat but that I no longer have the urge to eat it. That wasn't entirely true. For about five seconds, I wanted to eat a little wing, something I used to snack on while cutting up the main pieces for my dinner. I just wanted a little bite. I didn't have one and the urge passed quickly but I had the thought: a life without ever eating roasted chicken again. Can I do it? Well, I do. For now.
I'm still in one day at a time mode. It's been three months since I've ingested chicken, beef, or pork. Perhaps this transition has been made easier by my "fish are vegetables" stance, but that too is starting to wane. Life without shrimp? Maybe.
I sometimes think, one day I'll eat "humanely" raised meat every once in a blue moon. It's not that bad. Or, when I finally get over to Spain, I have to eat meat. I want chorizo. Sometimes I think maybe I do need to eat meat. Not just want to but need to. Need the protein, after all. But I know I don't. I know I'm tired because I'm a sleep-deprived insomniac, not because I didn't eat a steak. I was an insomniac when I ate meat and I'll probably be one for all of my days. Besides, I get plenty of protein from beans, cashew butter, veggie burgers, quinoa and kamut pasta spirals, soy milk, cheese, cow's milk, eggs, and yes, fish. If anything I suffer from a vegetable deficiency. My health is not being compromised by an overabundance of broccoli.
I've been reading less vegetarian literature lately. In the first month of my dietary and belief transition, I ordered back issues of Veg News, read vegan cookbooks on my lunch break, read excerpts of Slaughterhouse, and I listened to the Compassionate Cooks' podcasts, Food for Thought. That last tool really cinched it for me. So much so that I stopped listening, that's how effective the podcasts are. I can read a vegetarian cookbook and still think about the eggs I'll use in a cake. But listening to Food for Thought makes me feel guilty for not being vegan. Because Colleen Patrick-Goudreau is right. Her discussions are imapssioned, thoughtful, well-researched, thorough, and incredibly persuasive. I currently have "The High Costs of Cheap Meat" on pause and will play it once this post goes up.
One bad, bad day last when I was just angry at the world, I really wanted a bacon double cheeseburger. I thought, fuck this, I'm eating one. I want to eat all the fat and grease there is, make myself feel as sick physically as I feel emotionally. I planned on picking one up for lunch. While opening my e-mail that morning, the Compassionate Cooks newsletter was in my inbox. The picture on the top of this post was in the newsletter. I just couldn't eat a burger. The thought of eating one just made me sick.
picture courtesy of the blog, Food For Thought
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Life Swap
Have you ever seen television's Wife Swap? Joselle and I managed to watch an episode together last night, thanks to telephone technology. As seems typical, the show focuses on oddly-paired people who breathe fire at each other while learning valuable life lessons. Joselle and I learned a lesson or two of our own by watching this Wife Swap program: 1.) Most people are not terribly functional in our society; and 2.) No two people eat the same exact way.
Couple A idolizes its miniature doggies with fancy feasts and hand-knitted sweaters, all while worshiping the convenience of gas-guzzling automobiles and gas-inducing, meat-based fast food. Couple B is the epitome of West-Coast American environmentalism with its freegan dumpster-diving, human-waste-recycling backyard agriculture, and overall placidity. Both couples are a hoot---and quite extreme in their own idiosynchratic ways. When dumped together under one roof, the mutual menu is a hard sell. Mom from Couple A thinks that people who "pee on their garden" are "sick." Mom from Couple B thinks that fried chicken is definitely not the way to a household at peace with itself---and the lazy SUV in the garage sure isn't helping any.
Can't we all just get along? Yeah, I find myself leaning more toward the green-grass side of Couple B, but I like to think that Couple A isn't completely diabolical for living out a microculture that's so popularly acceptable at the macrocultural level (even though Dad from Couple B said something about Mom from Couple A being birthed when "Lucifer lifted his leg"). As difficult as a mutual menu can be to achieve, it's not that far off from the multiculturalism that's broadcast to a modern, democratic American society in the form of racial ethnicity, national origin, spiritual belief system, etc. The possibilities for balance are well within our grasp, but the world is definitely spinning out of control.
In the end, the question will stand: Who will be the most grounded in our shared reality? Hopefully, we all will; not just humans, but also the hipster canines in their tight sweaters, and chickens in the fryer at your favorite fast-food restaurant.
Couple A idolizes its miniature doggies with fancy feasts and hand-knitted sweaters, all while worshiping the convenience of gas-guzzling automobiles and gas-inducing, meat-based fast food. Couple B is the epitome of West-Coast American environmentalism with its freegan dumpster-diving, human-waste-recycling backyard agriculture, and overall placidity. Both couples are a hoot---and quite extreme in their own idiosynchratic ways. When dumped together under one roof, the mutual menu is a hard sell. Mom from Couple A thinks that people who "pee on their garden" are "sick." Mom from Couple B thinks that fried chicken is definitely not the way to a household at peace with itself---and the lazy SUV in the garage sure isn't helping any.
Can't we all just get along? Yeah, I find myself leaning more toward the green-grass side of Couple B, but I like to think that Couple A isn't completely diabolical for living out a microculture that's so popularly acceptable at the macrocultural level (even though Dad from Couple B said something about Mom from Couple A being birthed when "Lucifer lifted his leg"). As difficult as a mutual menu can be to achieve, it's not that far off from the multiculturalism that's broadcast to a modern, democratic American society in the form of racial ethnicity, national origin, spiritual belief system, etc. The possibilities for balance are well within our grasp, but the world is definitely spinning out of control.
In the end, the question will stand: Who will be the most grounded in our shared reality? Hopefully, we all will; not just humans, but also the hipster canines in their tight sweaters, and chickens in the fryer at your favorite fast-food restaurant.
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