Odds-n-Ends, Food I've Been Eating

In my typically random "odds-n-ends" fashion, here's a bit of what I've been enjoying. Above is carrot, daikon and winter squash (I know, it's out of season!) from Christina Pirello's This Crazy Vegan Life. This stew is actually very bright in flavor, like sunshine. It is finished with fresh lemon juice and Italian parsley. It's light, yet sustaining, good hot or cold.

Roasted Brussels Sprouts, before . . .

 . . . and after. Olive oil, salt, pepper and a tangle of fresh thyme and oregano from my herb patch (Buster hasn't yet figured how to climb into that pot, which is up off the ground, so the herbs are living the good life, unmolested!) I loved the crunchy brown parts on these sprouts. The bowl is one of the few surviving pieces I have left from my grandma Eula's everyday collection. The blue-and-white inspired me to fill in with more of the same color scheme for my own everyday. I also have her full set of fine china, but we rarely use it since we are such a rough and tumble bunch.

Collard greens sauteed with a bit of red onion, chick peas and GOBS of garlic (at least 10 cloves!) I encourage all you vegans out there to try going overboard with garlic. You'll love it! This was a full meal on its own, and I munched it for days.

Here's a shot of the above two featured dishes, along with a baked sweet potato. We've recently added a roof to our patio, which allowed me to move some furniture around and unclutter the screened porch. I've set up a small dining table out there. This was our first alfresco meal. My eyes were bigger than my stomach. I had to save a lot of this plateful, but none of it got wasted.

Homemade miso soup with daikon, onion, cabbage and tofu. This was a big batch, and I enjoyed the leftovers for several breakfasts. Having miso soup in the morning sets the tone for the day. The soup imparts a grounded, centered energy. If you ever find yourself with leftover miso soup, remember not to bring it to a boil when reheating it. Boiling kills the beneficial enzymes.

Here's a plateful of polenta with broccoli rabe, roasted peppers, onion and garlic. I LOVE broccoli rabe, also known as broccoli rape (!) and rapini. The checkout clerk tried to charge me for broccolini, another veggie which is actually a genetically modified hybrid. Broccoli rabe is more bitter than broccolini. Personally, I prefer the bitter note of this delicious vegetable. It tastes as if I've gleaned it from a meadow in Tuscany. Not only is broccolini of a less pure origin than broccoli rabe, it is also more expensive! I enjoyed the polenta for the corn that it is, but the omnivores found it to be bland to their sugar-addled taste buds.

This says summer to me -- just a homegrown tomato, veganaise, salt and pepper on good, crusty bread. This will likely be the last tomato sandwich from my garden this year. Buster easily climbs the thick stems of the heirloom vines now, and he takes the tomatoes before they have a chance to ripen. At least I still get all the grape tomatoes I want. those stems are too flimsy to hold buster's weight. I'll be buying the occasional heirloom tomato at $4.99/lb. so that I can continue to savor this late summer treat.

Stay tuned for a feature on Buster's least favorite vegetable -- the aubergine (eggplant). Aubergine is a lot more fun to say than eggplant, porridge is better than oatmeal, and polenta is better than cornmeal mush. Do you have a favorite gastronomical delight that can be elevated with loftier nomenclature? If you do, play along and share. I love expanding my vocabulary!

A Sustaining Breakfast

I love a porridge of Irish oats. I learned from trial and error that I really love these oats a little bit firmer than other folks may. When I have followed the package directions, I've been disappointed to find the oats are not much different from the quick-cooking ones, which is not a terrible thing, but I just prefer to enjoy my cross-cut oats with a chewy texture. It seems more special that way. So I prepared these oats with a little almond milk and water (I'm too lazy to measure!) and after bringing them to a boil, I simmered the panful for only 20 minutes or so. I had to add a bit more filtered water toward the end since the oats were beginning to stick to the bottom. The porridge was lovely and delicious, without the addition of any accoutrements. Eating it out of my favorite Peter Rabbit china from my babies' early childhoods made it all the more special. Have you noticed that almost all of my dishes are chipped or cracked? (we're a rough-and-tumble bunch, I guess)  Not this one! Nobody else wants to use a bowl this small, and I take steps to keep it out of the flow of traffic and out of the microwave. I am the only one who uses it!

The first time my Mom and Dad visited after I became vegan, they brought me a wonderful book, This Crazy Vegan Life by Christina Pirello. At the time, I was deep into a couple of other vegan books, so I set it aside to read later. Over 18 months vegan now, I am finally getting around to reading it. Interestingly, the author comes to the vegan lifestyle from a background of chronic illness, as do I. She has also dealt with the dreaded B12 deficiency which I am now overcoming. This book is jam-packed with nutritional and health information, which is just what I needed at this point of my life and my veganhood.

The above porridge is just a part of a wonderful approach to breakfast advocated by Christina: grains and greens --simple! Along with the Irish porridge, I had steamed lacianato kale, dressed with a scant drizzle of extra virgin olive oil.

I didn't waste the "pot liquor" as either my mother or my grandmother used to call it (can't remember who). The "pot liquor" is not as nefarious as you might guess -- it's just the cooking liquid from the steaming of the veggies!

I poured it into a cup and drank it as a tea -- surprisingly delicious! This grains-n-greens breakfast was so nourishing and calming. It provided a wonderful start to my day!

Quick Fix for a Sweet Tooth

When the system's in balance, I have no need for sweets, but it's still out of whack from my week-ful of bloody marys and vodka tonics and bread in many guises. From these indulgences I was feelin' fluffy -- about 3-5 lbs. was my guess before I stepped on the scale. The truth is I picked up only a couple of pounds and lost one of them the first day back. I don't really watch my weight too much since being vegan, but it is a good indicator of general health and balance. If I am eating enough dark green leafies, beans and whole grains, and drinking enough water, my weight magically, effortlessly, returns to my comfortable number. This is one of my favorite parts of the vegan lifestyle.

While my diet has improved exponentially since our return, I am still running wild playing catch up, so am not devoting enough time and planning to our meals. I'm not in balance just yet, hence the uncharacteristic sweets craving. Here's how I handled it in a jiffy -- a couple of spoonfuls of vanilla soy yogurt with a banana and a tablespoon of unsweetened cocoa. This was very good and did the trick, but I was unfortunately mindlessly wolfing it down while I was wrangling a pile of bills to pay. Since I had not stirred the cocoa into the moist yogurt, it became airborne and I actually inhaled a pile of it, coating the insides of my lungs with cocoa which elicited a coughing fit for a few minutes. I'm a mess. Maybe it's time to take up meditation again!

Besides my breathing mishap, I do wholeheartedly recommend this bowlful of wholesome, sweet yum to stave off a craving! BTW, That's my favorite bowl. It reminds me of when the kids were tiny, which seems like just yesterday -- those cheeks!

Having My Cake and Eating It Too

I am definitely speaking metaphorically here -- remember "The Devil" in Archives. What I deal with today is the question of saving or using, keeping or letting go. I am a child of a "waste not, want not" era. My people "recycled" before there were "recycling facilities", reinventing "perfectly good" trash or leftovers. Further back, my paternal grandmother, Eula, (see the "My Vegan Story" page for a snapshot of her later life) who grew up on an 18,000 acre homestead cattle ranch in northeastern Washington state, suddenly found herself in charge of the ranch at the tender age of 13 when her grandmother died. Eula could herd cattle and defended herself from the cowboys with a buggy whip. There are so many amazing stories about her  early life . . . not enough space here, but you can imagine a scrap was never wasted by that lady. My mother's family was equally frugal. As teens she and her sister shared three blouses and two skirts between them. Again, so many stories . .

So you can see from where I've come. The world has changed so drastically for the generations that have followed my grandparents' era. We have more, we spend more, we waste more, or, alternatively, we hoard. That's what happens when "waste not want not" collides with "just buy it on credit". I find myself with one foot in the hardscrabble past and the other in a minimalist future, fighting the urge to hoard.

I have regretted losing or even using some beloved objects with sentimental value, so my decision process gets gummed up sometimes while weeding out. The mental "weight" of all the stuff is paralyzing, but I wouldn't want to get rid of or use up something that turns out to be precious. Some of my best friends with pristine homes are ruthless about not letting objects linger. I can see that their mental loads are lighter and their energy levels higher. But that's not me, nor will it ever be. The best I can do is hone my decision making about what should be used, recycled, kept, donated or tossed.

The lovely photo above is not a cake. It is a beautiful little ball of soap my parents brought me, along with many other wonderful gifts, when they visited. The soap is from the Medici Palace, where they were recently privileged to stay on a trip to Tuscany. The soap is made with olive oil and smells so nice, but the wrapping is as precious to me as the soap. Look at the little sealing medallion, the twine, the grape leaf! Even as I write this I can see how silly I am being. It's just soap. But it's also my sweet Mom's delight when choosing it during a happy time in her life. Then the image of this treasure, dust-covered, lost in some vanity drawer someday pops into my mind. The decision is made.  I will display it by my kitchen window for a couple of weeks, and then I will unwrap and use it.

Here is another "precious treasure" I've managed to choose wisely about:

This Wedgewood baby bowl is part of a set given to us by my parents when Hans was born in 1994. I hope the plate and cup that came with it are carefully wrapped somewhere in a box of baby things. I don't remember. But I am happy this little bowl has lived in a pile of mismatched everyday bowls perched atop a pile of mismatched everyday plates on my cabinet shelf. It is the one I always choose for myself, and it works because it is a little smaller than the others, and my family members care a lot more about portion size than the quality of the china. But, aside from letting it reside in a pile of chipped and unmatched brethren, I carefully tend this little bowl. When I spied my sweet Dad getting ready to pop it in the microwave with some leftovers, I gently took it from him and quickly poured his food into a bigger, more chipped, more everyday bowl, explaining that I love this bowl he had given me and that the other bowl was better for the microwave.  He smiled and understood. He comes from the same people I do!

In using this treasure, I may lose it someday. Life happens. But I won't regret having used it. It always makes me happy. And anyway, it is already immortalized in this blog post, along with my Tuscan soap!