Faux Vintage
I had so many crafty plans for the summer, but in the end I only finished one project.
I fell in love with this cotton lawn as soon as I saw it on the Mood Fabrics website. It felt so 1940s, and perfect for a summer blouse.
I actually finished the sewing back in June, and sewed on the buttons at a Make Out session in July (if I remember rightly). The pattern is Colette's Violet blouse.
Even though the blouse came out well and the whole process went quite smoothly, I'm reluctant to call this a successful F.O. I fell in love with the print without stopping to consider if it would actually flatter me, and I'm not sure that it does. I should have gone with a solid color or at least a smaller print. Secondly, it's too short! The next time I make this pattern I'll add two or three inches to the body length.
I also don't have much to match it with. I did get these awesome high-waisted denim capris from Bettie Page back in July (the salesgirl said they're actually cut from a 1950s pattern), but it would be great to have at least one pair of shorts and one skirt to match as well. Colette has the perfect patterns, of course (and I already have Ginger in my stash). Making this blouse has reminded me why dresses are easier; you put on a dress and you're done. No matching!
Yes, I wimped out on the buttonholes by doing loops instead. 
The buttons were left over from this summer 2012 knitting project, a ginger-cat for my friend Alicia's daughter. (Those embroidery classes paid off! I never would have done such a neat job before Jessica and Rebecca.) 
My first collar facing!As for the pattern itself, I'll echo everyone else who's made it and say size down. I made it in a size 6—I usually wear an 8 or 10—and it's still fairly roomy. This was my first Colette project, and the directions are SO clear and easy to follow, especially compared to the way traditional commercial patterns are written and laid out.
After taking these photos I went into town for yoga and dinner, and had to rethink all the things I don't like about this blouse after I received three compliments from strangers of both sexes within literally five minutes (one of whom ducked into the Citizens Bank ATM lobby where I was getting cash especially to tell me how pretty it is!) I think the Donna-Reedishness of it really appeals to people. Maybe I remind them of black-and-white photos of their twentysomething grandmothers. For example:
(A Green Goddess bowl and a Loco-Coco smoothie at Life Alive, delivered by a girl who said "I love your shirt, it's really pretty." The lighting makes the greens look less appetizing than they are. Thoroughly delicious, especially with that ginger nama shoyu sauce!)
A More Peaceful Language
Raise your hand if you've ever used any of the following expressions.He chickened out.People are such pigs.I want to get my ducks in a row.There's more than one way to skin a cat.We all have. I'm way more conscious than I used to be of the violence implicit in our everyday language, but I still slip up sometimes. The opening night of Main Street Vegan Academy, Tali and I were talking about how delicious the DF Mavens non-dairy ice cream is, and I wondered if it would be all right if I had a second helping. "Or would that make me a piggy?" I caught myself as soon as I said it, and felt especially mortified to have said such a thing in a room full of vegans!I suppose this seems like a non-issue to a person who still eats pigs, but for me—someone who has read of how intelligent and affectionate pigs are, and that they roll in the mud to keep cool because they don't have sweat glands—this was definitely an unconscious thing to say. 
I want my language to reflect my values. I want to avoid saying or thinking words like "hate" and "kill" and "shoot," and the unpleasant expressions mentioned above, as best I can.If you're interested in thinking more deeply about our language choices and how they reflect our attitudes about animals and food, Colleen Patrick-Goudreau did a podcast back in 2006 called The Language of Meat. She even gets into the etymologies of meat-related words we take for granted. (A more recent episode on the subject is Verbal Vivisection: How Euphemisms, Oxymorons, and Doublespeak Disguise Our Violence Against Animals.)I've been wanting to call a lot of things "bullshit" lately. It's a word that's been trickier to let go of, since in my in-person and online conversations about veganism I'm placing so much emphasis on seeing and telling the truth. "Baloney" is a word that makes me laugh, so it doesn't feel like an appropriate substitute. On the other hand, when I remember what is IN a slice of lunchmeat—hormones, antibiotics, lethal bacteria—the word "baloney" (all right—"bologna") fills me with indignation. Which is exactly how I feel when I want to use the word "bullshit."This isn't as "nit-picky" a topic as it might at first seem. Becoming more compassionate and aware human beings entails modifying our behavior on every level—and that often means changing what comes out of our mouths, not just what goes in.
Vegan Eats on Either Coast
I feel like I've been bopping all over the place since I got back from Uganda. The Monday before last I went down to New York for my Yaddo pal John Searles's book launch (more about Help for the Haunted soon), and had an exquisite tapas dinner at Sacred Chow with Steve beforehand. (We hadn't seen each other since London at the end of 2010, so it took me awhile to get used to seeing him with no dreads!)
Smoky home fries, BBQ'd ginger seitan, Dijon marinated raw kale, grilled black olive seitan, root vegetable latkes, (those waffley things—they came with a delicious sour-creamish sauce), and sunflower lentil pâté with jicama. I could hardly pick a favorite.
Turns out Steve is a vegetarian now. I used to think of him whenever anybody mentioned chicken quesadillas, so it feels good to see him eating healthier foods.
Banana pound cake and a macaroon with blueberry compote. Not the sort of macaroon I was expecting, but it was still pretty tasty.Then last weekend I went to San Francisco for Aravinda and Nevin's wedding (more on that soon, too), and the day before I met up with Spencer for lunch at Herbivore on Valencia Street. His "meatballs" were really delicious, and my grilled corn-cake platter was a welcome change from the tofu scrambles I usually order for brunch (mostly at Trident).
Black beans, salsa, guacamole, home fries, and grilled corn cakes with vegan sour cream.
Minnie Minster promised a vegetarian Indian buffet after the wedding, and HOLY MOLY was it ever good. That's a masala dosa.
On Monday I wandered around the Ferry Building before meeting up with a new friend to watch America's Cup, and found a juice bar and vegan doughnut stand right next to each other. I guess they kinda cancel each other out, but don't know that I've ever had a vegan doughnut before, so I couldn't resist. It was insanely delicious. (Blueberry frosting!)
(Random sign that made me smile. Probably not vegan though...)
The "Happy Meat" Myth
I have often heard the word "humane" used in relation to meat, dairy, eggs, and other products like cosmetics. I have always found this curious, because my understanding is that humane means to act with kindness, tenderness, and mercy. I can tell you as a former animal farmer that while it may be true that you can treat a farm animal kindly and show tenderness toward them, mercy is a different matter.
A few weeks ago I reposted this photo and caption from my friend Stephanie's Facebook page. Someone (whom I quietly unfriended) commented, "So that's how he jumped over the moon." (What upset me most about that comment wasn't its callousness, but the fact that this person is a parent, and will therefore be passing this attitude along to his child; and his child deserves better than that.)There is heinous cruelty perpetrated upon animals in factory farms all over this country, and unless you are a jerk (see above) it is more difficult to deny this fact once you've seen such an image. A couple of friends left more respectful comments, saying they purchase their dairy products from a local farmer. I know they mean well, and I'm glad they don't support factory farming any more than I do, but there is a lot of wishful thinking involved here. We like to believe that "happy cows" and "happy pigs" and "happy chickens" actually exist at those smaller farms, and while they may escape the most horrible forms of abuse like what the cow in the photo went through, they are still not treated as the pets or friends-on-four-legs the dairy and meat industry marketing campaigns would have you believe them to be.I am the first person to admit that before I went vegan I poured ordinary cow's milk (i.e., from a factory farm) on my Cheerios without giving a thought to the way those cows had been treated. I wanted to ask those Facebook friends, "How many times have you actually eaten hamburgers, steak, or bacon without knowing for certain that it came from an organic family farm, where the animals are treated 'humanely'? Never? Are you really that perfect?" Nobody is. Perhaps my definition of "humane" differs from the dictionary's, but as you know, I believe in the power of semantics. The use of the word humane, to me, begs a simple question: would I, as a human, want to be treated this way?
- I wouldn't want to live in a crate, cage, or stall, standing up to my ankles in my own feces.
- I wouldn't want my eggs or breastmilk taken from me on a daily basis. (My eggs! Crazy, right? We do tend to forget we have essentially the same reproductive equipment as the animals we eat.)
- I wouldn't want my child taken from me, destined to be somebody's dinner.
Am I just anthropomorphizing again? Do animals really have feelings of their own? Let's reframe. What would you do if you found yourself in a slaughterhouse queue? Is it safe to say you'd do absolutely anything to save your own life? So did this cow (and he's not the only one).When I was a child, I was lied to about how and why cows produce milk. I was told that cows "gave" milk every day as a matter of nature, and that farmers were doing them a favor by relieving their udders--that it was a "win-win" situation. No one told me that cows had to be forcibly impregnated before they could produce milk, just as my mother had to carry me in her womb before she could breastfeed me.Ultimately this "happy cow" stuff comes down to marketing versus honesty. If you want to eat animal products, that is, of course, your choice. But don't deceive yourself. Those cows, pigs, and chickens aren't remotely happy so long as we are exploiting their bodies for food.
God, grant me the courage to know what happens to animals, and the grace not to hate humans because of it.-- Victoria Moran (@Victoria_Moran) July 10, 2013
Is there Happy Meat? "The Ultimate Betrayal" lifts the veil of secrecy surrounding animal farming http://t.co/QKt48aqqyF #FactoryFarms #Book— VNN (@VeganNewsNet) August 22, 2013
How I Get My Protein
The first question people generally ask vegans is, "Where do you get your protein?"There are PLENTY of protein sources in the plant world. Here's a brief list:--nuts: almonds, walnuts, cashews, etc.--seeds: chia, pumpkin seeds, flaxseed, sesame, sunflower, hemp...--beans and legumes: lentils, chickpeas, soybeans/tofu, kidney beans, peas...--vegetables: broccoli, asparagus, cauliflower, watercress, corn, brussels sprouts...--mushrooms: portobello, maitake, etc.--quinoa--nutritional yeastSure, you get protein from meat and dairy products, but you also get lots of saturated fat, cholesterol, hormones, and chemicals, all of which are known to promote cancer, heart disease, and diabetes. Protein from plants is therefore highly preferable to animal sources.Perhaps the next question a meat-eater will ask is, can you get enough protein solely from plant sources? First of all, you don't need as much protein as you think you do; as T. Colin Campbell says in The China Study:
"We do not need #protein in excess of what is provided in a normal, whole-food, plant-based diet." @TColinCampbell
-- Victoria Moran (@Victoria_Moran) August 9, 2013
To show you I get plenty of protein on a vegan diet, I measured and tallied up everything I ate on August 15, 2013, waiting until afterward to figure out my ideal protein intake (so you don't have to wonder if I changed anything about my diet for the sake of the experiment).
I should also preface this demonstration by telling you that right now I'm living on a college campus and eating almost all my meals in the school dining hall. It isn't the most vegan-friendly eatery in the world, but I make do, and if I can get enough protein, vitamins, and minerals in this less-than-ideal situation, then so can you.This was a fairly typical day for me eating-wise, although I don't make it to breakfast if I'm going to a 9am yoga class. Last Thursday I was going to yoga at 4pm, so I had half a grapefruit, tea, and a healthy helping of oatmeal with raisins and almond milk. (They do usually have almond milk, bless them. And yes, I did bring a measuring cup to the dining hall!):
At lunchtime there was quite a bit of curiosity and amusement among my friends-slash-colleagues when I sat down to measure my vegetables.
For lunch, I usually have a big salad with field greens or spinach, chickpeas, tomato, broccoli, tofu, peas, carrots, and onion, topped with hummus or some Goddess dressing from Trader Joe's if I have it (they have olive oil and balsamic vinegar in the dining hall, but this tahini dressing takes any salad from pretty good to thoroughly delicious.)
Did I really eat all that? Why yes, yes I did. It took me about forty minutes though, haha.
(And I ate that last piece of broccoli too.)
Then I snarfed down most of a pint of blueberries before yoga class.Since I was spending the evening knitting with Kath and Amy Lou, I grabbed a falafel sandwich and an organic carrot juice from Trader Joe's for a quick dinner (along with the last of the blueberries).
Check out how much protein I got in this sandwich: twenty-four grams!!! (And an additional 4 grams from the carrot juice.)
And for a snack when I got home, half a cup of raw almonds and a banana.Then I tallied up the protein using either the food labels or the USDA National Nutrient Database:
A hundred grams of protein!!! I was actually shocked when I added this up. I know I don't need anywhere near this much--and you can see how easy it was. But for the sake of thoroughness, let me figure out the recommended intake for my weight using the standard guideline as explained in Brenda Davis and Vesanto Melina's Becoming Vegan:
The protein in foods such as tofu, textured soy protein, meat substitutes, and refined grains is as digestible as that in animal products...Whole grains, beans, and vegetables have a tremendous range of health benefits, including an abundance of fiber, phytochemicals, trace minerals, and vitamins. At the same time, these foods are slightly less digestible than some of the more refined and processed plant foods. Thus, with diets composed of whole plant foods, some experts suggest that a factor of 10-15% be added to cover differences in protein digestibility. For vegans on predominantly whole foods diets, a figure of 0.9 g protein per kg body weight is suggested.
So to figure out how much protein you should be getting on a daily basis, just multiply your weight in kilograms by 0.9 (the U.S. RDA guideline is 0.8, by the way, so 0.9 is definitely erring on the side of caution). I weigh about 150 pounds (68 kg), so my protein recommendation is 61 grams. With an intake of 100 grams, even if I were pregnant I'd still be getting plenty of protein! I guess the real question to ask here isn't "am I getting enough?" but "am I getting too much?"--hilariously ironic given just how many times I've heard people ask how I can get enough protein on a vegan diet.I didn't tally up the calories, but if I got sufficient protein then it's safe to say I got enough. Something to keep in mind if you are transitioning to veganism: just make sure to EAT enough to satisfy yourself--enjoying healthy-fat foods like almonds (or almond butter), olive oil, and avocados--and you won't lose weight (unless you want to, of course; then you'd go easy on the olive oil!)
The Lost Religion of Jesus
Rosslyn Chapel.And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds in the sky and all the creatures that move along the ground—everything that has the breath of life in it—I give every green plant for food." And it was so.
(Genesis 1:30)
If you have men who will exclude any of God's creatures from the shelter of compassion and pity, then you have men who will deal likewise with their fellow men.
—St. Francis of Assisi
Within Christianity there is not a real consciousness about diet. But someday the Church will wake up and realize that an ethical diet is necessary to a moral way of life.
—Brother Ron Pickarski, OFM
While I was at Hawthornden back in January, I went with a few of my fellow writers to the Sunday service at the 15th-century Rosslyn Chapel. We'd come mostly to soak up the medieval atmosphere; it's been a long time since I set foot in a church hoping to emerge again with any sort of insight or answer.The second time I attended this Church of Scotland service, the minister—a jovial middle-aged man—opened his sermon with a joke about the Findus horse meat scandal. I stared at him in disbelief. As he segued into a second joke about Little Bo Peep finding her sheep on the shelf at Tesco, I took a white-knuckled grip on my seat in the pew, quivering with indignation (and if you know me, you know I'm not exaggerating).I didn't hear another word he said. All I could think was, How can I look to this person for spiritual guidance?Until that moment, I might have made a casual assertion now and then that Jesus was a vegetarian. But when I heard the minister make those jokes about the slaughter of innocent animals, I knew it was true. How could the man who preached "do unto others," a man we sometimes refer to as "the prince of peace," actually sit down to dine on animal flesh?Turns out there's a wealth of evidence to support this intuition, and a trove of interesting books to interpret it. I recently finished The Lost Religion of Jesus: Simple Living and Nonviolence in Early Christianity by Keith Akers, and right now I'm reading Rynn Berry's Food for the Gods: Vegetarianism and the World's Religions. You'll recall that Professor Berry gave us an excellent talk on the history of veganism on our last morning at Main Street Vegan Academy; and before we go any further, I should underline the rich historical precedent for vegetarianism. The Greek mathematician and philosopher Pythagoras, whom you remember as the guy who came up with a2 + b2 = c2, was also an ethical vegetarian; his many followers (and all who came after) were known as "Pythagoreans" up until the mid 19th century, when the word "vegetarian" was coined.In Food for the Gods, Berry writes:
Evidence for Jesus's vegetarianism in the canonical gospels is circumstantial, but nonetheless compelling. Ethical vegetarians find it inconceivable that such a potent religious figure and moral teacher could have slit the throat of an animal, or have eaten the cooked body parts of an animal. Apart from the moral impropriety of such a diet, flesh (not excluding the flesh of fish) was an extremely scarce commodity in the ancient world and would have been considered a luxurious food; it would have been out of character for a man who stressed simplicity and frugality in living to be eating such opulent food.
Speaking of frugality and simple living, I'll give you just one reason why I feel so uneasy in the religion I inherited, and why I avoid my hometown parish: the pastor built himself a three-car garage to house his Lexus (and two other cars, perhaps?) I'm certainly not saying the man should be living in a hovel and walking two miles to work, but a fancy car and a three-car garage built with parish funds don't qualify as "simple living" by any stretch of the imagination. People like to think of themselves as "good Christians," but how many of them actually live by the principles Jesus espoused?But I'm getting ahead of myself here. How do we know what Jesus really said—and what he actually ate? We must re-examine everything we think we know about him, teasing out the underlying motives of early church leaders. The Bible, as any rational Christian will admit, was written by human beings, each of whom had their own agenda. Nor does the Bible contain every worthy piece of scripture; many documents written by early followers and contemporaries of Jesus were jettisoned (or perhaps "suppressed" is a more accurate term) by Church "fathers." The discovery of the Nag Hammadi gospels in Egypt in 1945 yielded alternative accounts of Jesus's life and message, such as the Gospel of Thomas, the Acts of Philip, and the Apocalypse of James. Keith Akers also draws on contemporary sources (like Epiphanius of Salamis), not all of whom were sympathetic toward those Jewish sects who lived by the teachings of Jesus (and if someone who obviously doesn't like or agree with you says nice things about you, we can feel that much more confident that those nice things are true).Akers makes the distinction, first and foremost, between Jewish Christians and gentile Christians. The first group was comprised of several similar sects, many of whom were considered heretical by the Jewish establishment; the Jewish Christians believed that Jesus was the prophet of whom Moses spoke, and that he had come not to establish his own religion, but to correct the false and adulterated parts of their scriptures (directions for animal sacrifice being but one example). Jewish Christian sects like the Ebionites (from the Hebrew ebionim, "the poor") lived in pacifist communities, pooling their resources and eating a vegetarian diet. It is very likely that Jesus lived and preached within just such a community; the apocryphal scriptures indicate that he overturned the money-changers' tables in the temple because he was opposed to the needless slaughter of oxen, sheep, goats, pigeons, and doves—that there was nothing "holy" about it! The priests, who lived on these offerings, were none too pleased of course—and if all this is true, it follows that Jesus would be arrested and crucified on the priests' instigation. (So many things about my religion just didn't make sense to me until I read these books.)As for gentile Christianity, Akers makes a fascinating point: that pacifism was a highly inconvenient principle vis-à-vis Constantine and his army, who converted en masse after the emperor, prompted by a vision, bade his army mark their shields with crosses before a military triumph. It is this faction, of course, which took over the "Christian" message and its dissemination, diluting or overlooking the most basic tenets of nonviolence and simple living. The Jewish Christians remembered and lived by these principles, but they weren't accepted by either orthodox Judaism or gentile Christianity, and as pacifists they suffered tremendously through a series of Jewish revolts against Rome in 66-70, 117, and 132-135 CE. Though contemporary sources tell us they regrouped at Pella after the first revolt around 70 CE, and through geographical description Matthew pinpoints his own location in that vicinity (thus bolstering the case that the Ebionites' version of the gospel was the original), Jewish Christianity was destined to remain on the fringes of this new world religion. Akers writes, "When the larger gentile Christian church drove out Jewish Christianity...it also lost the core of Jesus' teachings." Hugely influential Church fathers like St. Paul, who introduced the concept of "original sin," were instrumental in this adulteration process; contemporary sources tell us that the Jewish Christians were ardently opposed to Paul's methods, believing that he corrupted Jesus's teachings to suit his own ends. Those who came out on top politically were those who established the doctrine—a belief system Jesus himself would not recognize.
While the church rejected the requirement for vegetarianism, it is indisputable that there were very large numbers of vegetarians in early Christianity. In fact, there are hardly any references to any early Christians eating meat. The view that Jesus ate meat creates a paradox: vegetarianism was practiced by the apostles and numerous early followers of Jesus, including Jesus' own brother, but not by Jesus himself! It is as if everyone in the early church understood the message except the messenger. The much more likely explanation is that the original tradition was vegetarian, but that under the pressure of expediency and the popularity of Paul's writings in the second century, vegetarianism was first dropped as a requirement and finally even as a desideratum.
—Keith Akers, The Lost Religion of Jesus
* * *
Regarding Jesus's possible vegetarianism, the first problem that comes to mind is that classic story of the loaves and the fishes. In Food for the Gods, Professor Berry points out that we must revisit the original Greek to find out if there actually were fishes served at that wedding feast:
Now, most translators render opsaria as sardines or little fish, but opsaria which comes from the Greek opson (relish) also meant "relish"; so it's possible to translate it as five loaves and two "relishes," "dainties," or "tidbits."
Professor Berry mentioned in his lecture that "relish" is the primary meaning of the original word used, and "little fish" only the tertiary meaning. Furthermore, bread with some sort of relish was a commonplace meal in first-century Palestine:
In Jesus's time, they dipped their loaf in relish or they tore off pieces of bread from the loaf and dipped it in the opsarion, or relish, which might have consisted of finely chopped olives with spices or ground sesame paste.
In other words, "The Loaves and the Fishes" might rightfully be retranslated as "The Loaves and the Hummus." Of course, Rynn Berry and his colleagues have pointed out other mistranslations; considering man's place among the animals, for instance, "dominion" is very different from "stewardship." It's the difference between a guardian and a slave driver. As the Rev. Andrew Linzey says in his Food for the Gods interview, "The original author [of Genesis] was seeking to describe a relationship—not of egotistical exploitation—but of care for the earth. It's extraordinary that almost 2,000 years of biblical exegesis should so often have overlooked the radical vegetarian message in Genesis I."As I sat through the rest of the sermon that morning, I knew I had a choice to make. I could behave as I always had—i.e., fuming in silence—or I could push past the nervous twisting in my guts to speak my mind in a calm, rational, mature way. I really didn't want to walk to the back of the church when the service was over, and wait in the vestibule doorway while a mother and her young son spoke to the reverend about some ordinary piece of church business—but I knew I had to if I was going to become the person I'd been saying I wanted to grow into. (I'm reminded of something else Rev. Linzey said in his interview: "At particular moments, almost against oneself, one finds the energy to do seemingly impossible things.")So I waited. And once the parishioners had said goodbye, I stepped forward. "Reverend, may I tell you what's on my mind?" He said yes, of course, and I went on, "I was upset by the Little Bo Peep joke you made at the beginning of your sermon. I believe that if we want to see peace in the world we have to start with our own stomachs"—he laughed when I said this, but not unkindly—"and that's why I'm vegan. I'm not going to try to convince you of anything, I just needed to express this to you."The minister replied in a warm and genuinely concerned attitude, apologizing if he had offended me and remarking that he had several colleagues who were vegan. I thanked him for allowing me to "speak my truth" and rejoined my friends in the pew. But I couldn't focus on their conversation; my whole body thrummed with excited energy. I'd been able to turn that knot of frustrated nervous disappointment in my stomach into something constructive, and there is no way I can adequately describe to you just how wonderful it felt.I guess we'll never know for certain that Jesus was a vegetarian, but there is far too much "circumstantial" evidence to overlook the idea. He taught his followers to love God, and love one another—indeed, the entire religion is based upon this simple principle!—and if we are to conduct our lives in this way, it ultimately makes no sense to practice compassion only for our fellow humans.In this blog post I am truly only scratching the surface of this topic; if you are a devout Christian, I highly encourage you to read these books, and think long and critically about what you believe in. I've put together this (non-exhaustive) reading list for myself (drawn from the extensive bibliographies of Berry and Akers), and it includes titles by veg(etari)an theologians:
Is God a Vegetarian?: Christianity, Vegetarianism, and Animal Rights by Richard A. Young
The Vegetarianism of Jesus Christ by Charles Vaclavik
The Birth of Christianity: Reality and Myth by Joel Carmichael
Jewish Christianity: Factional Disputes in the Early Church by Hans-Joachim Schoeps [this one I'll have to find at a good library!]
The Master: His Life and Teachings by John Todd FerrierThe Other Gospels: The Non-Canonical Gospel Texts, edited by Ron Cameron
Animal Theology and Christianity and the Rights of Animals by Rev. Andrew Linzey
Dominion: the Power of Man, the Suffering of Animals, and the Call to Mercy by Matthew Scully
For Love of Animals: Christian Ethics, Consistent Action by Charles Camosy.
I no longer feel comfortable identifying myself as a Christian for reasons outlined above—and yet, as a vegan, I want to follow Jesus's example in a way I never felt inspired to do when I was a card-carrying Catholic.
What is "extreme"?
Once upon a time, if I ever heard someone call veganism "drastic" or "extreme," I wouldn't have disagreed. Back then, going without cheese did seem too difficult to consider as a viable lifestyle option.
ex·treme[ik-streem] ex·trem·er, ex·trem·estnoun, adjective1. of a character or kind farthest removed from the ordinary or average: extreme measures.2. utmost or exceedingly great in degree: extreme joy.3. farthest from the center or middle; outermost; endmost: the extreme limits of a town.4. farthest, utmost, or very far in any direction: an object at the extreme point of vision.5. exceeding the bounds of moderation: extreme fashions.
Today I believe we often use words like "drastic" and "extreme" to label things we just don't feel brave enough to contemplate. We forget that the unknown, by definition, contains just as many possibilities for "extreme joy" as big bad scary things—and that "the big bad scary things" might only be a matter of faulty labeling, too.So I'd like to offer some perspective—to reframe these words, if you will. Here is a short list of things I consider "extreme":1. Open heart surgery, or blitzing your body with toxic radiation.They saw your chest open, for crying out loud! The links between animal foods and disease are scientifically irrefutable. How is giving up cheeseburgers "extreme" in the face of such massive health consequences?2. Anal electrocution.Just so some clueless human can wear their fur? This is not just extreme—it is cruel and insane.3. Losing your beak, or losing your life before it's even started.At poultry farms it is standard practice to singe off the beaks of female chicks so they won't peck each other out of desperation in their hideously claustrophobic cages, and to throw "useless" boy chicks into a grinder—or leave them to die in a trash can. These are reasons why I will never eat another omelet as long as I live. (You'd like to think family-run farms don't engage in these inhumane practices, but you cannot be completely sure of this unless you are keeping your own chickens. Earlier this week I watched Vegucated for the first time, and it includes disturbing footage from a farm that bills itself as small, organic, family run, etc. They say they have to resort to such practices in order to compete with the larger factory farm operations.)Yes, these facts are horrible and disgusting. I absolutely wish that none of this stuff existed outside of nightmares. But if you find it disturbing, you are proving my point.
Compassion is Contagious™
My friend Stephanie has been doing a great deal of work recently with animals who are on their way to the slaughterhouse. Watching the videos, tweets, and posts coming out of amazing volunteer movements like Toronto Pig Save has reinforced for me that concern for animal welfare IS spirituality: this is what "the interconnectedness of all living things" actually means. Other humans will soon end their lives in a very violent way, and yet this sort of aid—a drink of water, a few loving words, a brief physical connection of hand and snout—can still make a world of difference to these sentient creatures.Toronto Pig Save put together the following short video to show you what they do. It's been a brutally hot summer, but I have a fan, a shower, access to drinking water whenever I need it, and my absolute freedom. These pigs don't enjoy any of those blessings.As I watched this video I kept thinking of the times in my life when I was thirsty. I tried to imagine that feeling magnified to this degree, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to be confined like this, and in such unbearable heat.People sometimes say "you're just anthropomorphizing these animals," but I don't think so. You can see how desperate these pigs are for water—just as you or I would be. We humans don't have a monopoly on basic needs, or basic feelings.
What would happen if slaughterhouses had glass walls? @PaulMcCartney explains. WATCH & RT! VIDEO: http://t.co/Ozw5RdHhWe-- PETA (@peta) July 29, 2013
Of course, these activities are not limited to Toronto. In response to her Facebook and Twitter posts, Stephanie has been receiving inquiries and messages of support from all over the world, and she is helping to develop a broader organization called the Global SAVE Movement (Stop Animal Violence Everywhere). Here's a video she put up recently about setting up a SAVE group in your own community:On the surface, to focus on becoming a vessel of love and compassion might not seem all that "practical" or "effective." Yes, the animals are still going to die. But if you think back on the last time you were having a really shitty day and someone offered you a hug, a listening ear, and a heartfelt "I love you," you remember that these intangible gifts DO make a difference. (I love the Global Save Movement tagline, Compassion is Contagious™. For some downright hardwarming evidence that this is so, watch this "30 Days" episode in which a hardcore hunter goes to live with a family of vegan activists.)I'll end with a Youtube comment (on the first video) I found particularly cogent:
Global Animal Welfare Development Society
(Check out this interactive map to see where SAVE groups are popping up worldwide.)
Global SAVE Movement on Facebook
New York Pig Save on Facebook
Green Juice
I can't overstate what a fantastic investment in your health is a high-quality juicer. I am only half kidding when I say it's the best Christmas present I have ever received. (Thank you, Babbo!)
Dinosaur kale and giant cucumbers from the Copley farmers' market, celery, green apples, lemon and grapefruit = a perfect green juice.
(Juice-o-rama; More Juicin'.)
Are You Addicted to Cheese?
I used to love dairy cheese—my favorite was the Cotswold cheddar with chives you can find at Trader Joe's. I used to put it in sandwiches with avocado, or eat it plain. So many of my most comforting food memories revolve around cheese: my sister eating Peccorino Romano with a spoon as fast as our grandmother Dorothy could grate it before a spaghetti dinner ("The kid's got expensive taste," our grandfather remarked sardonically); Grandmom Kass serving up a perfectly browned grilled cheese, the American melted and gooey inside; a thoroughly delicious Italian "pie" with extra cheese in a dimly lit booth at Marra's in South Philly; ribollita topped with more top-quality parmesan, a satisfying lunch after a morning of classes at La Pietra in Florence.So when people ask if I miss cheese, they are probably surprised when I say no. I understand now that cows suffer so we can have milk and cheese, and nothing is so delicious that it can make me forget where it came from and how it was made. But this post isn't going to focus on animal rights. This time I want to talk about your health.
Pizza made with Trader Joe's vegan mozzarella.When I used to joke that I was addicted to cheese, I didn't realize I wasn't actually kidding. Dairy cheese contains casomorphin, which is an opiate. As Bill Clinton notes in a recent interview (thanks for the link, Mike!), "The main thing that was hard for me actually—much harder than giving up meat, turkey, chicken and fish—was giving up yogurt and hard cheese."Furthermore, we have a tendency to think that it's only red meat that will make us seriously ill in the long term, but if you read The China Study you'll see that T. Colin Campbell's research shows dairy consumption to be just as detrimental to one's health:
As we have seen with other forms of cancer, large-scale observational studies show a link between prostate cancer and an animal-based diet, particularly one based heavily on dairy. Understanding the mechanisms behind the observed link between prostate cancer and dairy clinches the argument. The first mechanism concerns a hormone that increases cancer cell growth, a hormone that our bodies make, as needed. This growth hormone, Insulin-like Growth Factor (IGF-1), is turning out to be a predictor of cancer just as cholesterol is a predictor for heart disease...It turns out that consuming animal-based foods increases the blood levels of this growth hormone, IGF-1.
Oh, and those "Got Milk?" ads from the '90s? Total baloney:
Americans consume more cow's milk and its products per person than most populations in the world. So Americans should have wonderfully strong bones, right? Unfortunately not...those countries that use the most cow's milk and its products also have the highest fracture rates and the worst bone health. One possible explanation is found in a report showing an impressively strong association between animal protein intake and bone fracture rate for women in different countries...[A]nimal protein, unlike plant protein, increases the acid load in the body...[calcium] ends up being pulled from the bones, and the calcium loss weakens them, putting them at greater risk for fracture. We have had evidence for well over a hundred years that animal protein decreases bone health.
...
Obviously neither kids nor their parents are learning about how milk has been linked to Type 1 diabetes, prostate cancer, osteoporosis, multiple sclerosis or other autoimmune diseases, and how casein, the main protein in dairy foods, has been shown to experimentally promote cancer and increase blood cholesterol and atherosclerotic plaque.
In other words, you might still end up with heart disease on a lacto-vegetarian diet.There are, of course, less dramatic health benefits. Give up dairy and you'll spend way less time on the toilet, and your skin will clear up too. Since giving up dairy my system runs more smoothly in general.
Salad topped with Treeline cheese. This stuff is AMAZINGLY delicious--rich and creamy like goat's cheese.
So what can you eat instead of dairy cheese?I tried rice cheese back in college, and I'm not going to lie to bolster my case here: that stuff was gross. Thankfully, culinary R&D has made huge strides in the past ten years. Today, if you wanted, you could actually substitute vegan cheeses for "the real thing" tit for tat, using products by Daiya and Follow Your Heart and Treeline and Dr. Cow and more I haven't had the chance to try yet. (It's also quite easy to make your own, and you can achieve a firmer cheese using a dehydrator.) Got a hankering for grilled cheese or pizza? Daiya melts like dairy cheese, and tastes rather like it too. Hors-d'oeuvres? Offer some Dr. Cow tree-nut cheeses and watch your meat-loving friends gobble it up on fancy crackers (as I did at a Black Friday dinner party a couple years back). My dad has even made me a traditional lasagna using vegan ricotta! True, the flavor is not the same, but as I said earlier this week, I wouldn't want these products to taste too much like dairy cheese.Furthermore, most of the time I don't feel the need for cheese analogs; I can count on one hand (okay, maybe one and a half) the number of times I've purchased vegan cheese in the past two years. When I "gave it up," I realized just how little I needed or wanted it.Of course, it's easy for me to say this as someone who has already dealt with my cheese addiction. My advice for breaking yours is simple: if you really don't think you'll be able to give it up 1-2-3, just start using whichever alternatives most appeal to you, and gradually wean yourself off the traditional cheddar, parmesan, and so forth. Tastebuds regenerate every three to fourteen days (depending on whom you ask), which means that a food you found a little too "healthy" in August might taste downright delicious in September, provided you give it a second and third chance. A cheese addiction can be kicked just like any other habit, and in less time than you might expect!
LOVED @erinred's post on 12 Reasons to NOT Eat Dairy, so we turned it into an infographic! pic.twitter.com/g3rneSW1eg-- SAVVY Rochester (@SAVVYRochester) March 24, 2013
Your Health is Up to You
While I was in Scotland earlier this year, I made a friend who quite enjoys her bacon and sausage. At the dinner table one night, we got to talking about disease and genetics. "I already know how I'm going to go," she announced. (She is younger than I am, by the way.) "My family has a history of heart disease.""People say that, but it's not one's family medical history, it's the fact that you're all eating the same food," I argued. "You won't die of heart disease if you change your diet."My friend gave me a helpless look as if to say, No, really, it's out of my hands. Then she took another bite of her shepherd's pie.This attitude is tragically prevalent. Why do we expect people to take responsibility for their decisions in every aspect of life BUT their personal health?Here's how I see it. So-and-so has a heart attack, or is diagnosed with cancer, and we are expected to react with complete sympathy, as if the disease chose them at random. The patient's poor diet feels like "the elephant in the room," even as an orderly arrives with a lunch tray brimming with highly processed, chemical-laden animal products--down to the cherry jello jiggling in the little plastic cup.Blaming bad genes while continuing to eat food that research has proven time and again to be extremely detrimental to our health: this is the very definition of insanity. It makes me wish people would just come out and say "You know what? I love steak and hamburgers so much that I really don't care if I end up on an operating table twenty years from now." That, at least, is honest.I'm not saying every disease is diet related, of course that's not the case; but we have way more control over our fates than we like to think we do. If you truly want to live a long and healthy life, then veganism is your road map. That way, when you're still going salsa dancing well into your nineties and people ask how you do it, you can tell them it isn't sheer dumb luck you've lived this long. You took good care of yourself, and now you're awfully glad you did.
As Easy as (Pizza) Pie
Last Friday I threw a vegan pizza party. (It turned out to be a party of three, but whatever, there was still an air of specialness about it—isn't that what makes a "party"?)
I picked up pizza dough (garlic and herb, so so good!), marinara, an eggplant, and shredded vegan "mozzarella" at Trader Joe's. Same deal as "regular" pizza: I sauteed the eggplant beforehand, kneaded out the dough, chopped up some fresh basil, and sprinkled everything on. (The summer after I went vegan, my dad made dough and sauce from scratch, using rosemary and thyme from his garden and Follow Your Heart "mozz." Daiya is also delicious.)
Nowadays vegan cheese melts just like "the real thing"—which might be an appealing quality for you during the transition away from dairy products. The taste isn't identical, but then, I wouldn't want it to be. Vegan cheese is tasty in its own right. (I like pizza without it too, piled high with roasted vegetables. For me, good pizza has always been about a crispy crust; everything else is optional.)I bought three bags of dough and made two big pizzas, but by the end of the evening there was only one slice left.
I'll be blogging about breaking the cheese addiction later this week. I'm really excited for this topic, since it was the biggest hurdle for me personally (or, rather, I'd thought it would be the biggest hurdle!)
The Epiphany That Came in Trickles
epiphany |iˈpifənē|nounA moment of sudden revelation or insight.
When I talk about going vegan with people who aren't, I generally sense an invisible wall going up between us. It's all very well and good for me, I can almost hear them thinking, but my way of life is not feasible for them.I am not a "hippie," nor was I raised in anything remotely resembling an alternative lifestyle. Growing up, my favorite meals were steak and baked beans on summer Sundays and my grandma Dorothy's meatloaf. I have very happy memories of stopping for Egg McMuffins at what felt like the crack of dawn en route to my grandparents' vacation house in the Poconos.So what changed? What chain of experience separates me as a vegan from you as a meat eater?When I was ten or eleven, I remember calling the toll-free number on the back of a Noxzema jar to ask if Proctor & Gamble tested on animals. (Of course they do; although according to their website they are "committed" to phasing it out. No timeline though.) I can't remember what initial "click" of insight possessed me to do this; my parents weren't pet people, so my firsthand experience of animals was relatively limited. All I know is that I wasn't ready to follow the thread of irrefutable logic that connects testing on animals with eating animals.In my teens, I often felt a vague unease whenever I ate meat or seafood. For some now-inexplicable reason, I cut out poultry but still ate a few steaks a year, and in high school and early college I often grabbed a tuna sandwich for lunch. I ate a lot of pasta and called myself a part-time vegetarian.The summer after my freshman year at NYU, I found a copy of Conversations with God on the bargain cart at the Strand. I'd scoffed at that book whenever I encountered it at my part-time job at Waldenbooks back in high school, but this time it practically leaped off the cart into my hands. (Funny how that happens, right?) I remember reading the following lines on the A train one afternoon:
A [highly evolved being], in fact, would never consume an animal, much less fill the ground, and the plants which the animal eats, with chemicals, then fill the animal itself with chemicals, and then consume it. A HEB would correctly assess such a practice to be suicidal.
Whether or not I actually believed these words came from "God," they produced a physical reaction. I didn't feel ill, I felt wonderful--what I've come to call a PING! moment. Since that epiphany on the A train, I have never felt a craving for the flesh of a land animal.Fishes, however, were still a semi-regular part of my diet. It seems like a lot of people go through this particular phase of cognitive dissonance; Colleen Patrick-Goudreau talks about being a pescatarian in her early 20s in a recent podcast on vegan dating. But as I wrote last week, I was doing the best I could at that time, and for most people this undoing of old patterns isn't going to happen overnight. I called myself a vegetarian but often ordered tuna sandwiches for lunch and the occasional salmon plate from my favorite Asian restaurant on Union Square (and yes, it does make me a little bit crazy now when I hear a pescatarian refer to themselves as a vegetarian, although I know I am not remotely justified in reacting that way). I publicly decried the vivisection going on in NYU research labs yet drank my hot chocolate with dairy milk. Looking back on all of it now, my epiphany seemed to be coming in trickles.It was the following summer, 2001, when I realized I needed to stop eating seafood. My dad was having a cook-out, and he'd gotten us tuna steaks. I can't remember whether or not I finished the meat on my plate, I just know that as I ate the little voice said, It makes no sense to eat this fish when you said you weren't going to eat meat.That day I became a proper vegetarian. And for the next ten years, I would occasionally pour factory-farmed milk on my Cheerios while believing I was doing "enough."As a vegan, it's been my experience so far that vegetarians often become much more defensive than meat-eaters do when we discuss veganism. I wasn't one of these defensive vegetarians, but only because I didn't know any vegans! Until I got to Sadhana Forest, aside from my brief interaction with Lauren from PETA, my only encounters with veganism were with two former vegans. I suspect both of them had been in it for the novelty value; but in fairness, we were all very young then.By the beginning of 2011, I was feeling uneasy whenever I consumed dairy products. I can't quite recall when or why I first got the idea to go to India; on the surface of things, I just wanted to travel and do a bit of volunteer work, but it seems perfectly clear to me now that I was supposed to go to Sadhana Forest. I was supposed to have that conversation with Jamey. On some deep level I was ready to change, and I was looking for a catalyst.As for Sadhana Forest, you already know about that particular breakthrough. And the really beautiful thing is this: my "vegan epiphany" wasn't the last. I keep having them, whether in yoga class or at my desk or reconnecting with the natural world; and each one is like the perfect inverse of a tiny earthquake inside of me, lining up the pieces instead of breaking them apart. That's been the greatest personal benefit, for me, of giving up animal products--I feel way more serene and spiritually attuned than I ever did before.
Sunday Brunch
I went home for the weekend, and yesterday my dad cooked a beautiful brunch. What does a vegan eat and drink for breakfast?
Sweet potatoes, onions, red peppers, garlic and fresh rosemary, sautéed in a cast iron skillet. Tomato slices. A simple tofu scramble with turmeric, salt and pepper. (The turmeric adds the yellow coloring.) Coffee with organic soymilk from Trader Joe's. Orange juice. Blueberries and blackberries picked literally just up the road.
I've been thinking a lot about my friend Jen's suggestion to focus on the practical transition-oriented stuff. Showing you what I eat on a regular (perhaps weekly?) basis might be helpful to that end. You, as a non-vegan, already eat a lot of foods that are, and other favorite meals (like Sunday brunch) can be veganized so easily!
Nobody's Perfect
Please let me emphasize that I'm not trying to make you feel guilty for the way you are living your life right now. As I wrote to my friend Jen the other day, half of my purpose in vegan blogging is to psych myself up to do better, and the other half is to psych you up for a whole new world of possibilities. I feel so vibrantly healthy and happy as a vegan, and I want everyone else to feel this awesome along with me!Regarding the first part--psyching myself up to do better--it's important for me to note that I am NOT holding myself up as some perfect model of ethical living. I generate trash. I don't always buy organic, and sometimes I forget to read labels. Every now and again I just assume a veggie burger is vegan. And sometimes I am a moody, judgmental priss.
I'm still wearing my "pre-gan" woolen sweaters. As I knit vegan replacements, I will be phasing out the old ones. But yes, for right now, I am a vegan still wearing wool. (As fun as it would be, vegan or no, most people can't afford a whole new wardrobe all at once!) Also, I'm sure there are still items in my wardrobe that were made in sweatshops, or at least way-less-than-ideal factory conditions. This is why I want to make what I wear, but I'm a rather slow knitter and seamstress.Here's something else I try to keep in mind (again with the "try"!): I was a meat eater for the first twenty years of my life. I still consumed animal secretions (yucky word, I know, but it is accurate) for ten years after that. Yes, I wish I'd had that "aha" moment back in childhood like some of my vegan friends did, or that my parents ate like hippies instead of just looking like them for a summer or two back in the early '70s. I wish I could have been ready that much sooner.But I wasn't ready, and that's okay. I don't feel irritation or resentment when I look back on who I used to be, so it wouldn't be fair to have those feelings toward somebody else who is still eating meat and dairy. Of all the wise things Jamey said to me at Sadhana Forest, maybe the wisest is this: "We're all doing the best we can at any given moment." Some would argue that's a cop out, and I see where they're coming from; but what Jamey meant is, just because someone is intellectually aware of the better choice doesn't mean they are equipped--emotionally, psychologically, or otherwise--to act in accordance, at least not at that point in time.I don't know that there are any "perfect" choices in this world, only better choices. That goes for humans too. We will never be perfect people, but we can become better versions of ourselves through even the simplest choices we make.Main Street Vegan Academy, part 4
Sometimes you find good advice where you least expect it (in this case, the ladies' restroom at South Station.)Saturday morning I took the bus down to New York for a Main Street Vegan Academy reunion dinner at the marvelous Peacefood Café (at Union Square). It was so lovely to reconnect with my classmates and meet a few new friends from the earlier sessions (one of whom, J.L., has a brand-new book out called Vegan For Her!)I've gotten to the point that when I'm in a totally vegan-friendly place like New York, a Chipotle burrito isn't going to cut it when I could patronize a cruelty-free business instead. I hadn't looked up a vegan option near the bus stop beforehand, but I decided I would find one without having to try too hard (I think most of you know I don't own a smartphone).And what do you know? A block and a half north of the Megabus stop (7th Avenue at 29th Street), there is a Loving Hut.
The girl behind the counter actually remembered my name, and used it each time she asked if I needed anything and if I was enjoying my food. A seitan sandwich with chipotle mayo and a side salad with carrot ginger dressing were so satisfying after a four-hour bus ride!
Already daydreaming about dinner at @peacefoodnyc with my #mainstreetvegan posse tomorrow. Gingerade & chickpea fries, for sure. #vegan-- Camille DeAngelis (@comet_party) July 20, 2013
More deliciousness at Peacefood that evening: gingerade, chickpea fries, and a Daiya cheeseburger with sprouts and plenty of pickle and mustard on focaccia.
Part of the Main Street Vegan crew. Oh how I adore these people!!!
Afterward we went to Chloe's for some fruity soft serve. Tali always orders the large.
So much fun tonight!!! RT @victoria_moran: With Main Street #Vegan Academy grads @chloesfruit in Mamhattan. pic.twitter.com/KXeJVXnxpG-- Camille DeAngelis (@comet_party) July 21, 2013
For brunch the next day I went to Sacred Chow (on Sullivan between West 3rd and Bleecker), which Tali had recommended. Stellar service--I love it when waitstaff don't try to make me feel weird for eating solo and taking up a whole table--and the fresh market greens salad hit the spot (after two faux meat sandwiches the day before, I was really hankering for some roughage).This was my first experience of jicama (that's the white bits), and I wasn't thrilled with it—it doesn't seem to have a taste at all!—but the raw cashew kefir dressing and "almond and sunflower nutmeats" were really delicious.Much more to say about my night in New York, but I'll save it for later this week.
Vegan is Easy, part 2
(Vegan is Easy, part 1; Time for Some Context.)
There are so many rules!
It's too restrictive.
Too difficult, too drastic, too extreme.
It's nice that it works for you, but I just know it wouldn't work for me.
Like I said, you can tell yourself you aren't capable of something, and prove yourself right (or dismiss an unfamiliar perspective as "too extreme"). That's your prerogative.This is mine:
(You can buy this button here.)People like to think veganism is about following rules and adhering to prohibitions. They focus on all the things you aren't "allowed" to eat. But what sort of hardship is it to deny yourself something you don't want? I certainly don't "abstain" from cigarettes!Friends will sit down to a meal with me and say, "I know you can't eat this." Sometimes I leave it at that, and sometimes I'll say, "I could eat it. I choose not to." Let us make the distinction between a rule and a choice.Fine, you say. I get it. But how do you get to the point where you no longer WANT to eat a fillet steak, or a big gooey helping of mac-and-cheese on a cold wet night? You may only have the vaguest notion as to why you should want to give up these foods in the first place. This is the point at which you begin to educate yourself.It happens for some people quite dramatically, like when you stumble upon undercover slaughterhouse footage; other people will read a book like Diet for a New America, The China Study, or The World Peace Diet, and let the information change them in a way that feels absolutely liberating (can you tell I'm writing from personal experience here?) This is the first choice you will make, before you even get to the "vegan is easy" bit. Do you really want to know where your food came from, how its production affects the planet and other sentient beings, and how what you eat will impact your body, mind, and spirit? Or would you rather just keep on living as you have been?During Main Street Vegan Academy I was talking with Marcia and Zachary about in vitro meat development. "Frankenmeat," I call it, though PETA is actually promoting this research for obvious reasons. "I'd never eat it," Zachary said. "Flesh just isn't food to me now." That's how I feel too. I'm not depriving myself of something I no longer see as edible.Besides, most of us vegans will tell you that we've become way more curious and creative in the kitchen since changing our diets, more open to trying "new" products like chia seeds or amaranth or kohlrabi or what have you. (And I enjoy vegan baking even more than I did the "old" way, admittedly because I like to surprise and delight people with delicious sweet things that are also cruelty free.) I've chosen to look at life as an adventure ever since I went on my first solo trip, but since I've gone vegan it's like I've been handed a much bigger map to guide and inspire me. The choice I've made has given me a whole new kind of freedom.
Time for Some Context
I was feeling pretty good when I put up yesterday's post (Vegan is Easy, part 1). It's been my aim for quite awhile now to blog regularly about vegan topics (with an eye toward relaunching this site as a veganism + creativity extravaganza of sparkly good fun—more about that soon), and it feels awesome to be taking small but concrete steps toward an important goal.In response to that post, I received a thoughtful email from a dear old friend. He believes that the way I approached this subject was potentially off putting to many casual readers of this blog (himself included), that I'm operating within an isolated context, and of course I honor that perspective. Through our email exchange yesterday, I realized I should probably clarify a few points.Going vegan is more than a matter of semantics, of course, and I admit that on this blog I am writing primarily for people like the person I was a few years ago. When I say "going vegan is as easy as you want to make it," I am speaking to someone who has the means and resources to eliminate animal products but hasn't yet made the connections between food and personal health, food and the planet, food and the thinking, feeling animals it used to be. If you are a little bit open, a little bit curious, and can afford to educate yourself with a book like Main Street Vegan or Eat Vegan on $4 a Day, then yes, I am writing to you--and you are free to take or disregard my advice as you wish. I know not everyone will like what I have to say here, and I'm fine with that. I'll honor your journey and trust you will honor mine.When I say "going vegan is easy," I am not speaking to someone living in low-income urban housing who goes to McDonald's for dinner because it's what he or she was raised on. I do not feel "qualified" to speak to that section of America, or anywhere else, not because I don't believe a vegan diet is viable for everyone, but because I KNOW it is easy for someone like me to say it's easy. I'd love to work with socioeconomically disadvantaged young people someday (in fact, that's a huge part of my master plan), but I'm certainly not going to sit here and say that shifting their eating paradigms will be just as "easy" for them as it was for me. That said, in the near future there will be an increasing number of organizations like Dr. Ostfeld's cardiac wellness program at Montefiore in the Bronx (as I mentioned in this post) that will make veganism an accessible concept to people who have problems I will never have to contend with as a middle-class "white" woman. Whatever race or color, rich or poor, every person on this planet deserves to be happy and healthy, right? So you see, this message IS relevant to everyone. (I'm putting that out there in a spirit of equality, not as in "THE WHOLE WORLD SHOULD GO VEGAN TOMORROW.")My friend believes in social justice. So do I. And I think we can agree that factory food is, to a certain extent, a capitalist tool of socioeconomic oppression, from the unfortunate souls who toil in an atmosphere of relentless horror and trauma in the slaughterhouses to the unfortunate souls who consume the Big Macs, "fruit" punch, and genetically-modified God-only-knows-what, and pay for it with their health--while a select few tell one lie after another as they profit from all this misery. On the other hand, there may very well be a section of the politically progressive community who believe that seeking justice for animals (and even the planet) is "kind of beside the point" when there are so many people suffering all over the globe. Why am I arguing for the animals when I could be down in Florida right now protesting outside a courthouse, or volunteering with an NGO in a third-world country? Because I believe that world peace begins in our own stomachs. We can't eliminate the violence on our streets until we stop and see, truly see, the products of violence on our plates. By all means go out and engage in whatever form of activism makes sense to you, and I'll keep on pursuing the role I feel I'm meant to play in all this; and let's leave room for the possibility that our goals aren't mutually exclusive.I stand by my assertion that going vegan can be fun and easy. It might be more of a challenge than it was for me (I didn't have hostile friends or family to contend with, for example), and it might take you longer to transition than it took me, but that doesn't mean you can't do it. You CAN do it. This is about your planet, all the other creatures we share it with, and your own health and spiritual well being. Even if you don't go vegan today or tomorrow, it's a lifestyle worth your careful consideration, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to read this through.(Vegan is Easy, part 2.)
Vegan is Easy, part 1
I love this sign over my friend Amy Lou's kitchen doorway: "Turn soft and lovely any time you have a chance."
There's a reason why certain expressions become platitudes, right? No matter how irritating it may be to hear "you win some, you lose some," or "This too shall pass," the truth these sayings carry is undeniable.The platitude I have in mind right now is attributed to Henry Ford:"Whether you think you can or you can't, you're usually right."But I prefer to say it this way:"Whether you think you can or you can't, you are VIRTUALLY ALWAYS right."You probably know by now (and if not, you might be interested to read this essay) that I believe in the creative power of semantics. That's why I try my best to avoid saying "I want" or "this is really hard for me" or "I'm struggling." (I also try to avoid the word "try," but y'know.)This isn't just a theory for me; I taste the fruit of my words on a daily basis. My words (thinking or speaking) reflect my attitude, and my attitude creates my reality. This can be as basic as thinking "I can DO this" when I'm easing myself into a more advanced yoga pose (and guess what: I prove myself right), or as "important" as writing and selling a novel, or speaking in front of a group (same words, same outcome).Awhile back I stumbled upon the Twitter profile of a woman who described herself in her bio as "struggling to be vegan." I don't remember where she was from (though I'm pretty sure she doesn't live in New York City...or India). It made me sad to know that not only was someone creating and perpetuating a struggle for herself, but that she had actually chosen to frame her own identity in this negative light.Life can be really, really challenging sometimes, and there's no sense denying that. Strangers and loved ones alike will question your decisions, and maybe even make themselves unpleasant about it. But if you can adopt a "free and easy, no matter what happens everything will be just fine" sort of attitude as you move through your day-to-day activities, then why not choose to live your life that way? Why WOULDN'T you make life as easy for yourself as you possibly can?This is how I feel about veganism. Before I left Sadhana Forest, I decided that this new diet and lifestyle and belief system would be joyful and easy, even if it required a little extra planning from time to time (such as packing several packages of nuts, sesame sticks, and dried fruit on our trip to Turkey).You know what I'm going to say next, right? It HAS been joyful and easy.When they find out I'm vegan, people often say, "Wow, no eggs or cheese? That must be hard," and I come back with, "It's easy, actually. Fun and easy." I have traveled extensively in a meat-heavy country like Colombia, and eaten like a (vegan) princess in every single place I visited. I have "broken bread" with meat-loving friends and relatives, and enjoyed the experience even if I didn't like what I found on their plates. I am making and purchasing beautiful new vegan clothing, and not regretting giving up knitting or wearing wool. I decided I could do this, and I would love doing it, and I have absolutely proven myself right.But I'm not special. If I can do it, so can you.(The other piece of this is, of course, educating yourself to the point where you no longer desire animal foods--so that veganism is your choice, and a joyful choice at that!--and I'll be writing about that process next. Time for Some Context; Vegan is Easy, part 2.)
More Juicin'
(Almost every time I say "we're juicing," someone comes back with "that makes you sound like you are on steroids.")
I like to admire the colors before I stir.
Looks like a dark chocolate shake, or a pint of stout, right? Beets + aforementioned dinosaur kale + carrots + a couple of apples = the savoriest juice yet. (I'd have used more apples if we had them.)