I can be a bad influence. I don't mean in that You-Should-Do-Drugs-'Cause-It'll-Make-You-Cool kind of way. Rather, I encourage people to choose the better of two evils when locked in an internal conflict of conscience. For example, the following conversation occurred at work today:
Colleague: I really want to go to Sampan for lunch, but I shouldn't.
Me: Why not?
Colleague: I brought a sandwich, so I was just going to get soup.
Me: Okay...
Colleague: Aw man.... I just remembered how good their soup dumplings are...[self-flaggelation follows]
Me: You should go.
Colleague: No, I should eat my sandwich, otherwise it will go to waste. I'll just go tomorrow.
Me: You don't know tomorrow will come - no one is promised tomorrow. If you want to go, you should go today. [little horns start to poke up from under my hair]
Colleague: You're a bad influence.
Me: Yes.
Colleague: But I'm having dinner with my cousin after work, so the sandwich will go to waste.
Me: The sandwich you were eating earlier?
Colleague: Yes. But I still have half left.
Me: Okay, but it's 4:30 right now and you're working until 9, so you won't have dinner until 9:15 at the very earliest. You'll be back here at 5, you'll eat your other half-sandwich around 7 because you'll need a snack to get you through until dinner.
Colleague: You're a bad influence.
Me: Yes.
With that, Colleague headed out the door for his lunch of Kimchi Fried Rice and Soup Dumplings at Sampan. He came back 30 minutes later with a satisfied smile and the last bite of an ice cream cone that had been his dessert poking through his lips.
I try to live by that whole "carpe diem" thing. Some people think it's morbid when I point out that we don't know that we'll have tomorrow, but it's true and I'm just trying to be realistic - you don't know. People close their eyes on their last day every day - if today is mine, I want to know I had a good one and didn't say, "eh, tomorrow," as though I had a limitless supply.
Actually, one thing, before we move on to happy things - here is a clip from Brandon Lee's last interview before he died quite unexpectedly on the set of "The Crow." You can skip to minute 5 for the part that is relevant to the first part of this post.
Now, Angst also likes to live in the Now, and doesn't want a single opportunity to eat something he shouldn't to pass him by. Enter the newest object of his hungry lust:
Two or three times a year (anniversary, birthday, and/or Valentines day), Mister ignores that Angst likes to destroy my roses and gets them for me anyway. At that point, Angst commences to stalking them, so we have to take them in the bedroom at the end of each night.
Yesterday was Mister's and my fourth wedding anniversary, which we celebrated by me working until 9pm, freezing my butt off as I walked home, and then hugging some and deciding to go out tonight instead (when I was home from work much earlier). Nevertheless, he did a bunch of sweet things for me - he got me my beautiful roses, changed the kitty litter and lit a smelly candle, and turned on the heat so I'd be warm when I got home from work. He's a keeper!
After a full day of trying to find somewhere to fill the void of Horizons and wishing Vedge was open, we ended up at La Fourno, having an enjoyable Italian meal. I will say, they have some of the most creative and substantial salads I've seen - we had some trouble finding the lettuce under all the grilled veggies! There was nothing terribly outstanding but I do have one little word of advice for my friends at La Fourno: wine should never be served in a heated glass. They really need to work on differentiating "cellar temperature" from "pizza oven behind this wall" temperature.
Showing posts with label pizza. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pizza. Show all posts
Friday, October 28, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
stocking weather
It's coming. It will be here before you realize, making even the fittest women feel like slobs.
Stocking season.
Now, I know bare legs have been the trend lately, but nothing is going to change the fact that every day it gets a little further into autumn, a little closer to winter, and the new season of stylish legwear is making its way into stores: tights, stockings, nylons - whatever you want to call them, they are coming and they are cruel.
You can cheat a little - I know I do - by wearing thigh-high stockings, but there comes a part of winter when it's too bitterly cold for anything but serious, sweater-material, covering every-last-part-of-my-legs stockings. This is the part where I start wondering if I've been deceiving myself when I see a woman in the mirror who appears to be an appropriate weight. By design, stockings are meant to be tight - this helps to prevent adding bulk to the legs and prevents any possibility of cold air squeezing in. That does not mean they don't give otherwise healthy-weighted women a "fat" complex upon donning them the first, second, or hormonally-driven time.
Why do I tell you all of this?
I have been a size 4, more or less, for about 13 years. Since my early twenties, I have managed to stay within a 10-pound range in my weight, with a couple of odd life circumstances bleeding an extra few pounds on one side or the other for a very brief time. Over the course of my life, I've been subjected to the misdirected ire of overweight and obese women. Some "can't wait" until I get fat, others insist I weigh so little because I don't eat anything. More than a few people want to blame my horribly restricted dietary choices for my ability to maintain my weight, but let me tell you - there are plenty of fattening vegan foods. For heaven's sake, there are several cookbooks devoted solely to making delicious vegan desserts, followed by a vegan diet cookbook...
No, friends, the reason I have done a fair job of maintaining my weight for most of my adult life is because I keep myself in check.
I know that sounds boring as heck, but it's true. If you've been reading Angst Loves Spinach for a little while, you may have even experienced some of my "OMGINeedToDetox!!!" moments already. Well, hold onto your hats, because I'm pretty sure stocking season will bring on another round of that panic/vigilance. Which is good. Because I'm having Mardi Gras a few months early.
Every once in a while, I have a day where I am completely aware that I am taking in way more calories than my body needs and I do it anyway because sometimes, I just can't make myself care. Now and then, I have a week or weeks like that...that is when I start to gain weight. Not a lot, of course - it takes far more effort than you might imagine to gain a lot of weight (unless there are extenuating circumstances), but my skirts fit a little tighter, I like my profile a little less in a full length mirror, and I dread putting on full stockings.
After a healthy breakfast, a several-hundred-calorie snack at our staff meeting this morning, and two large slices of tomato pie (more in a minute - let me finish my self-flaggelation first), I recognized that I was probably about topped out for my small body's caloric needs for the day, but I still had my heart set on Put the Tex in Your Mex Chili from The 30 Minute Vegan for dinner tonight, served with a generous bowlful of tortilla chips, which I have come to accept as our standard "utensils" on Chili Night.
| testing the limits of my saute pan... crowded much? |
It really is a fabulous recipe - two kinds of beans, two kinds of peppers, an acceptable amount of garlic (not that I needed more after lunch today!) and seitan, among other things. It's hearty, savory, and fun to scoop with tortilla chips. Fortunately, I was able to stop after just one bowlful purely because I don't want to have someone carting me to work in a wheelbarrow tomorrow.
Ah, well.... as I used to tell my clients when I worked for a weight loss company, tomorrow is a new day with new opportunities to make healthy choices.
Now, about that lunch: any local readers, please do yourselves a favor. If you find yourself in the vicinity of 21st and Chestnut Streets, find a way to be hungry and then head into Mix Restaurant and Bar. I went there for lunch today with a colleague, so I can't speak for the bar part of the restaurant, but the pizza! They have several pies available from which you can select a slice, including a masterful tomato pie: fresh chunks of tomato, tons of garlic, olive oil, and an artful spiral of jade green pesto adorning the pie. I thoroughly enjoyed both of my pieces and happily wolfed them down accompanied by water they don't charge you for and a delightful lunchtime conversation.
I absolutely do not regret my lunch choice and I will do it again (with an overpowering mint gum as a chaser, in the best interests of my customers), but again, the time for moderation is at hand... we can't start stocking season with a over-thought body image crisis, can we?
Friday, October 14, 2011
day dates and lazy nights
Since I'm such a sweetheart (except when I eat Mister's soup), I woke up on the first day of my serendipitous three day weekend this morning. As usually happens on days I can sleep in a bit, I woke up an hour before I needed to in a complete panic that I was going to be late if I didn't get up right now. Fortunately, I remembered quickly that I was off today and didn't have anywhere to be until I went to see the magnificent and persevering Philadelphia Orchestra play the first concert in their opening series.
Please forgive the blurry picture, but you can see the important bits. The pouty young man in the lower right corner is Julian Rachlin, the violin soloist for today's (and tomorrow's and Sunday's) performance. He is quite a performer! He is actually only a few years older than Mister and I and I laughed a little to myself when he took the stage - I had no idea they could make nice expensive suits to imitate the growing (and somewhat disturbing) trend of skinny jeans on boys. I discussed this with a colleague 12 years my junior - she sees no problem with boys wearing girlpants. Call me old-fashioned, but men's and women's pants are designed differently because, frankly, men and women have different spacial needs in certain areas....
Anyway, back to the performance. Julian was totally a rockstar - he was a pleasure to watch as he nearly danced along with the more lively parts of the music he played and had some of the most charmingly pretentious facial expressions and theatrical, dance-like movements while he was waiting for the orchestra to let him play again.
Ordinarily, when I see the orchestra (not that it's a common occurrence, though I'm trying to weasel my way into the Lang Lang concert next Saturday, what would have been Franz Lizst's 200th birthday), I prefer to sit in the balcony so I can see all of the instrumentalists, not just the ones closest to the stage front. The seats Mister and I occupied today were the closest I have ever sat to the Orchestra and it was amazing to be able to see the faces of the performers. In a time when the arts in Philadelphia are encumbered at best and more realistically, endangered, and in the first few days of a new contract negotiation for the players which results in "downsizing" their salaries and benefits (the Orchestra declared bankruptcy earlier in the year and is trying to keep one of the world's best orchestras afloat), it was heart-warming to see how genuinely they enjoy playing their instruments.
For any arts lovers out there, here is the concert I had the privilege of seeing this afternoon:
Prokofiev's Symphony No. 1 in D Major, Opus 25 ("Classical)
Sibelius's Violin Concerto in D minor, Opus 47 which was magnificent
Beethoven's Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Opus 92 (which was featured in the movie Mr. Holland's Opus if anyone is familiar)
I loved every minute, but classical music is not really Mister's thing. To reward him for accompanying me, we visited a new restaurant for a late lunch (resulting in no fun dinner stories, unless you want to hear about the PB&J I'm about to eat). Zavino is a pizza and wine bar, part of the 13th Street Renaissance owed to a pair of visionary female entrepreneurs. Despite the threatening sky, we elected to sit outside. There was an awning to protect us when it did start to pour but we felt badly for the waitresses who brought our food (shielded by a tray over top). We started with a tray of marinated olives and an apple and candied walnut salad, then each of us got our own pizza. They had a Garden Pizza on the menu and when the waitress told me what was on it, there was no question what I would order: house-made marinara (spectacular) with large, thin slices of garlic, sauteed spinach and thin spirals of fennel. It was amazing. Even better, my evil plan worked - it started raining once we were seated and stopped when we paid the bill, allowing us to stroll home without getting wet. Timing is everything folks.
Speaking of timing, this seems a good time to share the new menu!
1. Monk Bowl from The 30 Minute Vegan because it's been a really, really long time since I've cooked from this book and I missed a couple of the recipes. Those follow:
2. Pasta Florentine, which, to be honest, was the whole reason I was looking through the book to begin with.
3. Put the Tex in Your Mex Chili. I'll be honest (again). I hate the name of this meal, as well as a lot of others in the book. There is no need to be this cheesy - it's a vegan cookbook! :)
4. Homey Vegetable Stew with Dumplings requires a little extra effort but is so worth it.
5. Farfalle with White Beans and Cabbage from Vegan on the Cheap. It's a 7-meal menu and the week before payday, so I figured I should probably complete the menu with some favorites from this book.
6. Mexican Rice and Bean Bake
7. Better-Than-Takeout Tofu Stir-fry
Please forgive the blurry picture, but you can see the important bits. The pouty young man in the lower right corner is Julian Rachlin, the violin soloist for today's (and tomorrow's and Sunday's) performance. He is quite a performer! He is actually only a few years older than Mister and I and I laughed a little to myself when he took the stage - I had no idea they could make nice expensive suits to imitate the growing (and somewhat disturbing) trend of skinny jeans on boys. I discussed this with a colleague 12 years my junior - she sees no problem with boys wearing girlpants. Call me old-fashioned, but men's and women's pants are designed differently because, frankly, men and women have different spacial needs in certain areas....
Anyway, back to the performance. Julian was totally a rockstar - he was a pleasure to watch as he nearly danced along with the more lively parts of the music he played and had some of the most charmingly pretentious facial expressions and theatrical, dance-like movements while he was waiting for the orchestra to let him play again.
Ordinarily, when I see the orchestra (not that it's a common occurrence, though I'm trying to weasel my way into the Lang Lang concert next Saturday, what would have been Franz Lizst's 200th birthday), I prefer to sit in the balcony so I can see all of the instrumentalists, not just the ones closest to the stage front. The seats Mister and I occupied today were the closest I have ever sat to the Orchestra and it was amazing to be able to see the faces of the performers. In a time when the arts in Philadelphia are encumbered at best and more realistically, endangered, and in the first few days of a new contract negotiation for the players which results in "downsizing" their salaries and benefits (the Orchestra declared bankruptcy earlier in the year and is trying to keep one of the world's best orchestras afloat), it was heart-warming to see how genuinely they enjoy playing their instruments.
For any arts lovers out there, here is the concert I had the privilege of seeing this afternoon:
Prokofiev's Symphony No. 1 in D Major, Opus 25 ("Classical)
Sibelius's Violin Concerto in D minor, Opus 47 which was magnificent
Beethoven's Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Opus 92 (which was featured in the movie Mr. Holland's Opus if anyone is familiar)
I loved every minute, but classical music is not really Mister's thing. To reward him for accompanying me, we visited a new restaurant for a late lunch (resulting in no fun dinner stories, unless you want to hear about the PB&J I'm about to eat). Zavino is a pizza and wine bar, part of the 13th Street Renaissance owed to a pair of visionary female entrepreneurs. Despite the threatening sky, we elected to sit outside. There was an awning to protect us when it did start to pour but we felt badly for the waitresses who brought our food (shielded by a tray over top). We started with a tray of marinated olives and an apple and candied walnut salad, then each of us got our own pizza. They had a Garden Pizza on the menu and when the waitress told me what was on it, there was no question what I would order: house-made marinara (spectacular) with large, thin slices of garlic, sauteed spinach and thin spirals of fennel. It was amazing. Even better, my evil plan worked - it started raining once we were seated and stopped when we paid the bill, allowing us to stroll home without getting wet. Timing is everything folks.
Speaking of timing, this seems a good time to share the new menu!
1. Monk Bowl from The 30 Minute Vegan because it's been a really, really long time since I've cooked from this book and I missed a couple of the recipes. Those follow:
2. Pasta Florentine, which, to be honest, was the whole reason I was looking through the book to begin with.
3. Put the Tex in Your Mex Chili. I'll be honest (again). I hate the name of this meal, as well as a lot of others in the book. There is no need to be this cheesy - it's a vegan cookbook! :)
4. Homey Vegetable Stew with Dumplings requires a little extra effort but is so worth it.
5. Farfalle with White Beans and Cabbage from Vegan on the Cheap. It's a 7-meal menu and the week before payday, so I figured I should probably complete the menu with some favorites from this book.
6. Mexican Rice and Bean Bake
7. Better-Than-Takeout Tofu Stir-fry
Labels:
arts,
dining out,
menu,
music,
orchestra,
outdoor dining,
Philadelphia,
pizza,
VeganMoFo2011,
wine
Monday, August 15, 2011
pizza and donuts
Seriously, can a man have a happier birthday than this?
Mister loves donuts. I remember when I learned that - I don't think we'd been dating all that long, but let me set up for you what my perception of him was at that time: When Mister and I started dating, he was the manager of the mechanical department of a Bike Line store on the Main Line suburbs of Philadelphia. He was actively involved in mountain biking, urban trials, and competitive racing. He had the talent to have gone from high school into a professional soccer league, but went to college instead. He lived on Clif bars and water, from what I could see.
What I'm trying to say is Mister took really good care of himself and ate healthier than anyone I'd ever met. So, imagine my surprise the first time we went on a road trip and he explained the necessity of starting at Dunkin' Donuts. It was then I saw a darker side of Mister. A side that can't live without egg 'n' cheese bagel sandwiches and donuts (though, to his credit, these are absolutely "sometimes treats").
So, many donuts later, here we are and at the stroke of midnight last night, I said "happy birthday" to Mister for the tenth time. So today, I wanted to make him a huge, dual-flavored birthday donut. The flavor selections were carrot cake and spice cake - I figured they'd go well together. Unfortunately, we may never know.
I started out by making the recipe for Carrot Cake Cupcakes from Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World, and although it does make a very tasty cake, I think it's better left to tiny cupcakes - it didn't want to hold a ring shape and when I inverted it out of the cake pan and onto the rack, it pretty much fell apart.
Ugly, yes, but very good. We ate half of it before dinner (it's not very big - don't judge). My second try went a little better. Actually, it went so much better that it didn't matter that what was supposed to be one layer of a two-layer donut cake fell apart and fell into our bellies.
The second "layer" was made from the spice cake recipe I tested for Dynise's cookbook over the winter. Fortunately, there was enough puffing-up agent in the batter to make this one create a whole round (and stable) donut all by itself!
I left it on the counter to cool down while Mister obediently averted his eyes anytime he had to pass through the kitchen and I got ready for dinner. We didn't go anywhere very special (aka fancy), but I wanted to get dressed up and Mister humored me. So, instead of a classic pizza joint where Mister could just keep wearing his t-shirt and jeans, we went to a fancy, gourmet, Stephen Starr pizza joint where it was hip enough that I could dress up a little without looking like a jerk.
I was happy to see my old friend, the Marinara Pizza, with it's perfect, fresh-tasting, home-made pizza sauce with fresh oregano leaves and paper thin slices of garlic sauteed in olive oil before being added to the perfectly cooked pie. Mister had the wood-burning oven in his direct line of sight and was very amused by how carefully they made sure each pizza was cooked "just right," apparently quite invested in a job others might not consider "skilled labor."
Just below mine was Mister's Margherita Pizza, with more delightful sauce, melted mozzarella, and huge basil leaves.
After we'd stuffed ourselves with thin-crust pizza and some green things we ate as appetizers, we headed home and I began the process of making icing for the donut.
I discovered that Tofutti "cream cheese" is stronger than my measuring cup. When it's not Mister's birthday anymore, I'll have to get him to fix that somehow.
Shortening intrigues me, disgusts me, and impresses me, all at once. I have had this shortening for a long time - long enough that I can't remember when I got it. Honestly, I totally expected to open it up and find it had changed colors, grown hair, or had little friends living inside of it. I mean, it's not even refrigerated! Yet, it looks just like it did the first time I opened it (aside from the missing bits).
Anyway, I creamed together the cream cheese and the shortening and then added powdered sugar incrementally. Probably a little too much, but I was following the recipe, so....
- freshly ground and brewed Blue Bottle Coffee when he wakes up
- a Wawa Hoagie for brunch
- Pizza for dinner with a gourmet cream soda
- and a Giant Donut for dessert
I don't see how. Oh, and gourmet mustards for gifts. Yeah, I'd say Mister's having a pretty happy birthday. He'd probably prefer his "cake" didn't have pretty pink candles, but hey, some days you're the bird and some days you're the statue.
After a couple cups of coffee, I showered, dressed, and set off on my quest to Williams-Sonoma (I could honestly go broke there, especially with MAC right across the street). I had one main objective:
Mister loves donuts. I remember when I learned that - I don't think we'd been dating all that long, but let me set up for you what my perception of him was at that time: When Mister and I started dating, he was the manager of the mechanical department of a Bike Line store on the Main Line suburbs of Philadelphia. He was actively involved in mountain biking, urban trials, and competitive racing. He had the talent to have gone from high school into a professional soccer league, but went to college instead. He lived on Clif bars and water, from what I could see.
What I'm trying to say is Mister took really good care of himself and ate healthier than anyone I'd ever met. So, imagine my surprise the first time we went on a road trip and he explained the necessity of starting at Dunkin' Donuts. It was then I saw a darker side of Mister. A side that can't live without egg 'n' cheese bagel sandwiches and donuts (though, to his credit, these are absolutely "sometimes treats").
So, many donuts later, here we are and at the stroke of midnight last night, I said "happy birthday" to Mister for the tenth time. So today, I wanted to make him a huge, dual-flavored birthday donut. The flavor selections were carrot cake and spice cake - I figured they'd go well together. Unfortunately, we may never know.
I started out by making the recipe for Carrot Cake Cupcakes from Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World, and although it does make a very tasty cake, I think it's better left to tiny cupcakes - it didn't want to hold a ring shape and when I inverted it out of the cake pan and onto the rack, it pretty much fell apart.
Ugly, yes, but very good. We ate half of it before dinner (it's not very big - don't judge). My second try went a little better. Actually, it went so much better that it didn't matter that what was supposed to be one layer of a two-layer donut cake fell apart and fell into our bellies.
The second "layer" was made from the spice cake recipe I tested for Dynise's cookbook over the winter. Fortunately, there was enough puffing-up agent in the batter to make this one create a whole round (and stable) donut all by itself!
I left it on the counter to cool down while Mister obediently averted his eyes anytime he had to pass through the kitchen and I got ready for dinner. We didn't go anywhere very special (aka fancy), but I wanted to get dressed up and Mister humored me. So, instead of a classic pizza joint where Mister could just keep wearing his t-shirt and jeans, we went to a fancy, gourmet, Stephen Starr pizza joint where it was hip enough that I could dress up a little without looking like a jerk.
I was happy to see my old friend, the Marinara Pizza, with it's perfect, fresh-tasting, home-made pizza sauce with fresh oregano leaves and paper thin slices of garlic sauteed in olive oil before being added to the perfectly cooked pie. Mister had the wood-burning oven in his direct line of sight and was very amused by how carefully they made sure each pizza was cooked "just right," apparently quite invested in a job others might not consider "skilled labor."
Just below mine was Mister's Margherita Pizza, with more delightful sauce, melted mozzarella, and huge basil leaves.
After we'd stuffed ourselves with thin-crust pizza and some green things we ate as appetizers, we headed home and I began the process of making icing for the donut.
I discovered that Tofutti "cream cheese" is stronger than my measuring cup. When it's not Mister's birthday anymore, I'll have to get him to fix that somehow.
Shortening intrigues me, disgusts me, and impresses me, all at once. I have had this shortening for a long time - long enough that I can't remember when I got it. Honestly, I totally expected to open it up and find it had changed colors, grown hair, or had little friends living inside of it. I mean, it's not even refrigerated! Yet, it looks just like it did the first time I opened it (aside from the missing bits).
Anyway, I creamed together the cream cheese and the shortening and then added powdered sugar incrementally. Probably a little too much, but I was following the recipe, so....
Well, okay, I added like 2 teaspoons of soymilk to make it a little more spreadable. Aside from that, I followed the recipe. Once I'd terrorized poor little Angst with the electric mixer, I had a nice pliable frosting for the donut.
Angst wishes it was his birthday.
Labels:
Angst,
birthday,
cake,
donuts,
Mister,
Mister's favorites,
pizza,
restaurant,
VCTOTW
Monday, May 9, 2011
garlic lovers pizza
Soooo....remember my theory about poisoning myself with overdue vegetable broth? Remember how I doubted my theory because Mister ate the same dinner I did but without getting sick? hee hee.
By the way, the alternative title for this post is: How To Poison Your Husband Without Really Trying (just so you can eat leftover pizza for dinner).
So, yesterday, while I was getting my hairs did and buying food for us to manipulate into all kinds of meals, Mister didn't really eat anything. Like he's inclined to do, just as I was about to start cooking, Mister decided he was starving, so before I could stop him, he had pulled out the leftover Orecchiette con Broccoli, microwaved a good portion and ate it. I waited for him to double over and give birth to an alien via surprise caesarean, but it didn't happen. This only further confirmed my initial thought: I'm a mutant and there was nothing wrong with the dish.
Fast forward to tonight. After enthusiastically greeting me at the door upon my return from a harrowing day, Mister revealed that he had been feeling sick all day and wasn't all that interested in eating a big dinner. As luck would have it, I was exhausted and frustrated and didn't especially mind the thought of not having to cook a big dinner. After venting to Mister with many flailing gesticulations ending with my hands on my hips, I decided to wallow in our shared comfort food - pizza.
I grabbed my box of leftover Marinara Pizza from Pietro's from the fridge and heated up the toaster oven. I was startled by the chunks of garlic all over! I remember their prevalence at the restaurant, but I think it was dim enough that I couldn't behold their true size - these are some large slices/chunks of garlic!
I love garlic. I do. All you need to do is type "garlic" into the search window on the right --> to see how many posts are devoted to my romance with this stinky vegetable. But I'm not quite hard core enough to bite into half a clove of half-raw garlic. Sorry if that disappoints anyone. See, I think the [palatable] difference between Stella's Marinara Pizza and Pietro's is that the cooks at Stella clearly sauteed the garlic before laying it over the pizza. I'm pretty sure the cooks at Pietro's chopped up some raw garlic and threw it on the pie before tossing the whole mess in the oven for 10 minutes. 10 minutes of roasting in a brick oven is not enough time to cure garlic of its less attractive qualities (like staying on my breath and tastebuds for nearly 24 hours...my poor students).
I left the garlic on my pizza while I reheated it, hoping the best parts of the garlic would attach themselves to the marinara and/or crust, then pulled them off one by one. This was not too difficult considering some of the "slices" were a half inch thick. This ^ is the pile of garlic I had left after plucking them off.
In case you're wondering, they did leave behind a delightful flavor but without all the "I'll still taste this when I wake up in the morning" -ness.
By the way, the alternative title for this post is: How To Poison Your Husband Without Really Trying (just so you can eat leftover pizza for dinner).
So, yesterday, while I was getting my hairs did and buying food for us to manipulate into all kinds of meals, Mister didn't really eat anything. Like he's inclined to do, just as I was about to start cooking, Mister decided he was starving, so before I could stop him, he had pulled out the leftover Orecchiette con Broccoli, microwaved a good portion and ate it. I waited for him to double over and give birth to an alien via surprise caesarean, but it didn't happen. This only further confirmed my initial thought: I'm a mutant and there was nothing wrong with the dish.
Fast forward to tonight. After enthusiastically greeting me at the door upon my return from a harrowing day, Mister revealed that he had been feeling sick all day and wasn't all that interested in eating a big dinner. As luck would have it, I was exhausted and frustrated and didn't especially mind the thought of not having to cook a big dinner. After venting to Mister with many flailing gesticulations ending with my hands on my hips, I decided to wallow in our shared comfort food - pizza.
I grabbed my box of leftover Marinara Pizza from Pietro's from the fridge and heated up the toaster oven. I was startled by the chunks of garlic all over! I remember their prevalence at the restaurant, but I think it was dim enough that I couldn't behold their true size - these are some large slices/chunks of garlic!
I love garlic. I do. All you need to do is type "garlic" into the search window on the right --> to see how many posts are devoted to my romance with this stinky vegetable. But I'm not quite hard core enough to bite into half a clove of half-raw garlic. Sorry if that disappoints anyone. See, I think the [palatable] difference between Stella's Marinara Pizza and Pietro's is that the cooks at Stella clearly sauteed the garlic before laying it over the pizza. I'm pretty sure the cooks at Pietro's chopped up some raw garlic and threw it on the pie before tossing the whole mess in the oven for 10 minutes. 10 minutes of roasting in a brick oven is not enough time to cure garlic of its less attractive qualities (like staying on my breath and tastebuds for nearly 24 hours...my poor students).
I left the garlic on my pizza while I reheated it, hoping the best parts of the garlic would attach themselves to the marinara and/or crust, then pulled them off one by one. This was not too difficult considering some of the "slices" were a half inch thick. This ^ is the pile of garlic I had left after plucking them off.
In case you're wondering, they did leave behind a delightful flavor but without all the "I'll still taste this when I wake up in the morning" -ness.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
creeping closer
I keep going back and forth between elation and disbelief (okay, there's a little bit of anxiety mixed in to give the cocktail a little something extra) about the fact that we're moving next weekend.
I'm indescribably excited to do the moving in part - setting everything up the way I want it, plotting out the perfect ways to maximize space, meanwhile creating a cozy and welcoming home. Actually, I don't think "cozy" will ever be a problem in a city apartment. I'm psyched for a trip to IKEA because new furniture is fun and I always enjoy the feeling of accomplishment I get from constructing something. I can't wait to make our first dinner there, then maybe sit back on our new couch and watch a movie for the first time in months. That sounds like a pretty nice way to spend Valentines day after all, doesn't it?
I'm also a little anxious, not only because of the pile of boxes in my home, but also because of all the things that aren't yet in boxes. I'm dreading packing up my dishes and cookware, and I'll delay it as long as possible, but inevitably, it must occur. Between the normal new apartment expenses (in this case 2.5 months rent to move in) and the new couch, new desk, and possible kitchen extension (more on that next week), February is looking to be an expensive month. We can handle it, but the thought of multiple days of carry-out, followed by a decadent (read: Expensive) V-Day dinner at Horizons, is a little daunting and not an expense I'm looking forward to, so I'm hoping to wait as far into next week as possible before packing up.
We've already begun the Boring Dinners part of preparing to move, which is one of the reasons I skipped last night. I made Tuscan White Bean Pizza from Vegan on the Cheap and it really wasn't very attractive, so I didn't take any pictures. I'll share one from last time, though, because it was a positively sexy pizza last time I made it.
We almost repeated the pizza theme tonight. After waiting in cold, gusty wind that wanted to knock me over while I waited for 30 minutes for my train to take me home tonight, I [obviously] got home a bit later than usual. I almost stopped at Blackbird, but then I remembered what our "menu" will look like next week and kept going. Instead of take-out, we had leftover Pasta Jambalaya.
Mister was completely okay with that, though. I should have realized it was a favorite when he had three servings the other night and enthusiastically pulled the leftovers out of the fridge for me while I took off my coat.
I'm indescribably excited to do the moving in part - setting everything up the way I want it, plotting out the perfect ways to maximize space, meanwhile creating a cozy and welcoming home. Actually, I don't think "cozy" will ever be a problem in a city apartment. I'm psyched for a trip to IKEA because new furniture is fun and I always enjoy the feeling of accomplishment I get from constructing something. I can't wait to make our first dinner there, then maybe sit back on our new couch and watch a movie for the first time in months. That sounds like a pretty nice way to spend Valentines day after all, doesn't it?
I'm also a little anxious, not only because of the pile of boxes in my home, but also because of all the things that aren't yet in boxes. I'm dreading packing up my dishes and cookware, and I'll delay it as long as possible, but inevitably, it must occur. Between the normal new apartment expenses (in this case 2.5 months rent to move in) and the new couch, new desk, and possible kitchen extension (more on that next week), February is looking to be an expensive month. We can handle it, but the thought of multiple days of carry-out, followed by a decadent (read: Expensive) V-Day dinner at Horizons, is a little daunting and not an expense I'm looking forward to, so I'm hoping to wait as far into next week as possible before packing up.
We've already begun the Boring Dinners part of preparing to move, which is one of the reasons I skipped last night. I made Tuscan White Bean Pizza from Vegan on the Cheap and it really wasn't very attractive, so I didn't take any pictures. I'll share one from last time, though, because it was a positively sexy pizza last time I made it.
We almost repeated the pizza theme tonight. After waiting in cold, gusty wind that wanted to knock me over while I waited for 30 minutes for my train to take me home tonight, I [obviously] got home a bit later than usual. I almost stopped at Blackbird, but then I remembered what our "menu" will look like next week and kept going. Instead of take-out, we had leftover Pasta Jambalaya.
Mister was completely okay with that, though. I should have realized it was a favorite when he had three servings the other night and enthusiastically pulled the leftovers out of the fridge for me while I took off my coat.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
hit a wall
That's it. I'm done. There's only so much a girl can take before she gives up and orders pizza.
The Yukon Pizza - paper thin slices of potato, sprinkled with fresh rosemary, cracked pepper, and coarse sea salt on a thin crust that balloons out to what could be a breadstick on the edge - is definitely my favorite so far. I've had plain Daiya cheese, seitan sausage, and avocado as toppings, and Mister and I tried the hand-cut fries and cheese steaks shortly after they opened.
I am exhausted and worn out and stressed to the max. I can only convince myself to return tomorrow because I have an absurd sense of duty/work ethic and a strong desire to behave as an adult in contexts where that is appropriate. It doesn't hurt to remember that when I walk out those doors tomorrow night, I won't set foot in that building until the new year. I don't think I have ever needed or earned a break more than I have this past month.
It seems like people naturally put on weight this time of year, especially people I work with. It's a little ironic, considering we work for a weight loss company, but I think I've cracked the code and it's not the parties. December is absolutely the busiest month of my year, as well as the mid-level management as they/we struggle to get everything ready for the busyness we anticipate will occur the minute Christmas (read: eating holiday) is over. Although I generally put a lot of care into the way I fuel my body, and although I recognize that machines run better on good fuel than "cheap" gas, there is something to be said for the sheer, ridiculous comfort "junk food" can provide. Additionally, the closer we get to Christmas, the more cookies and snacks find their way into the building, on to my desk, and into my belly. Hopefully, this crap will refrain from setting up camp, but regardless of that unpleasant possibility, I just don't like eating junk.
But it tastes so good sometimes.
And it's so available. Someone, get the cookies off my desk.
Regardless of the occasional and fleeting guilt I feel about eating more cookies than fruit this month, I have given up on trying to behave - I'll detox next month. This must be how holiday weight gain occurs: you get to a point where you are just too stressed out to care or you feel like you "deserve" a cookie or you just stand in your kitchen with absolutely no desire to cook even though you have this amazing recipe you can't wait to make.
It'll have to wait until tomorrow.
| Dinner is brought to you (actually, ME) this evening by Blackbird Pizza |
The Yukon Pizza - paper thin slices of potato, sprinkled with fresh rosemary, cracked pepper, and coarse sea salt on a thin crust that balloons out to what could be a breadstick on the edge - is definitely my favorite so far. I've had plain Daiya cheese, seitan sausage, and avocado as toppings, and Mister and I tried the hand-cut fries and cheese steaks shortly after they opened.
| glamour shot...it's like there are potato chips on my pizza |
I am exhausted and worn out and stressed to the max. I can only convince myself to return tomorrow because I have an absurd sense of duty/work ethic and a strong desire to behave as an adult in contexts where that is appropriate. It doesn't hurt to remember that when I walk out those doors tomorrow night, I won't set foot in that building until the new year. I don't think I have ever needed or earned a break more than I have this past month.
It seems like people naturally put on weight this time of year, especially people I work with. It's a little ironic, considering we work for a weight loss company, but I think I've cracked the code and it's not the parties. December is absolutely the busiest month of my year, as well as the mid-level management as they/we struggle to get everything ready for the busyness we anticipate will occur the minute Christmas (read: eating holiday) is over. Although I generally put a lot of care into the way I fuel my body, and although I recognize that machines run better on good fuel than "cheap" gas, there is something to be said for the sheer, ridiculous comfort "junk food" can provide. Additionally, the closer we get to Christmas, the more cookies and snacks find their way into the building, on to my desk, and into my belly. Hopefully, this crap will refrain from setting up camp, but regardless of that unpleasant possibility, I just don't like eating junk.
But it tastes so good sometimes.
And it's so available. Someone, get the cookies off my desk.
Regardless of the occasional and fleeting guilt I feel about eating more cookies than fruit this month, I have given up on trying to behave - I'll detox next month. This must be how holiday weight gain occurs: you get to a point where you are just too stressed out to care or you feel like you "deserve" a cookie or you just stand in your kitchen with absolutely no desire to cook even though you have this amazing recipe you can't wait to make.
It'll have to wait until tomorrow.
| I like the way you think, Angst. |
Sunday, November 28, 2010
$20 for groceries (revisited)
When I was taking the VeganMoFo survey and I got to the following question:
$22.54
No, I'm seriously not kidding. That is how much I spent, total, between Whole Foods and Superfresh.
No, I don't think I could be any more pleased with myself. :D
And just in case you still don't believe me (I don't blame you), here is what you can get for that amount:
So, to my great surprise and Mister's delight, we actually have a precious few discretionary dollars this week. We have food, with at least one item on the menu promising leftovers. I have a miraculously unopened bottle of Beaujolais and I'm looking forward to seeing how long it stays in that state - I'm betting for tomorrow night. I have $3 in my wallet and a few in the bank, and only 4 days until that wonderful transfusion called "my paycheck." I think we're gonna make it.
Then, in an effort to stave off Mister's use of those discretionary dollars for pizza by at least one more day, tonight's dinner was Tuscan White Bean Pizza.
What an attractive and tasty meal - the pizza, which I really jazzed up (more in a minute), served with a bowl of mixed olives and the last of the leftover soup. I feel like a little bit of a glutton, revealing that Mister and I each start with 2 slices of pizza, but neither of us went back for more, so think whatever you want ;)
Now for the fun: the picture isn't the best, but it's the best I have to show you the big chunks of green hiding in the "sauce." You may recall the picture of my mom industriously mincing fresh herbs when we were cooking together for Thanksgiving. Well, she doesn't use a lot of fresh herbs, so she sent me home with fresh sage, thyme, and marjoram. I ran out of basil recently and keep forgetting to replace it so I usually sub dried marjoram because it smells very similar - sweet, ever so slightly anise-y but nothing like tarragon. Fresh marjoram smells almost floral and has a very strong taste - sweet and slightly floral. Anyway - the chunks of green? Yeah, that's marjoram.
Also, I sprayed the pre-made crust with olive oil and then sprinkled a few pinches of my California-bought Tuscan seasoning over top of it before I spread the "sauce" over top. I laid the tomatoes down in overlapping circles and then sprayed them with olive oil, sprinkled the whole mess with my beloved Mediterranean Sea Salt and sprayed one last time. I might have used a little more of the sea salt blend, but nothing is going to change that we are well past prime tomato season now. For heaven's sake, there are only two days left of November and VeganMoFo!
Well, folks, tomorrow begins my descent into madness, but I do have a few more tricks up my sleeve so don't go anywhere far!
You have $20 to spend on fresh groceries and produce for the whole week (with a fairly well stocked pantry of dry goods, legumes, grains, and spices). What do you buy?I thought that it was a clever, make-ya-think kind of question. I had no idea I would have to take it seriously a week later! Nevertheless, I went grocery shopping today with the list I made from last night's menu planning and although I didn't have a dollar goal in mind (aside from spending as few of them as possible), that question/hypothetical situation kept repeating itself in my head. I used my super-sleuth eyes to find the lowest prices on everything on my list and absolutely could not believe it when I arrived home with our entire week of groceries for...are you ready? I don't think you are. I have two receipts here to show any doubters that I walked away from the stores with everything I need for this week's dinners for only...(drum roll, please)
$22.54
No, I'm seriously not kidding. That is how much I spent, total, between Whole Foods and Superfresh.
No, I don't think I could be any more pleased with myself. :D
And just in case you still don't believe me (I don't blame you), here is what you can get for that amount:
- 4 ripe bananas
- 1 lemon
- 1 head of garlic
- 1 poblano pepper
- 1 loaf of multigrain bread
- 1 block of extra firm tofu
- 32 oz almond milk
- 16 oz ziti
- 28 oz crushed tomatoes
- 14 oz fire roasted diced tomatoes
- 15 oz cannellini beans
- two 15 oz cans of black beans
- 15 oz pinto beans
- 16 oz salsa
- 1 lb of colombian coffee
- frozen apple cinnamon waffles
So, to my great surprise and Mister's delight, we actually have a precious few discretionary dollars this week. We have food, with at least one item on the menu promising leftovers. I have a miraculously unopened bottle of Beaujolais and I'm looking forward to seeing how long it stays in that state - I'm betting for tomorrow night. I have $3 in my wallet and a few in the bank, and only 4 days until that wonderful transfusion called "my paycheck." I think we're gonna make it.
Then, in an effort to stave off Mister's use of those discretionary dollars for pizza by at least one more day, tonight's dinner was Tuscan White Bean Pizza.
What an attractive and tasty meal - the pizza, which I really jazzed up (more in a minute), served with a bowl of mixed olives and the last of the leftover soup. I feel like a little bit of a glutton, revealing that Mister and I each start with 2 slices of pizza, but neither of us went back for more, so think whatever you want ;)
Now for the fun: the picture isn't the best, but it's the best I have to show you the big chunks of green hiding in the "sauce." You may recall the picture of my mom industriously mincing fresh herbs when we were cooking together for Thanksgiving. Well, she doesn't use a lot of fresh herbs, so she sent me home with fresh sage, thyme, and marjoram. I ran out of basil recently and keep forgetting to replace it so I usually sub dried marjoram because it smells very similar - sweet, ever so slightly anise-y but nothing like tarragon. Fresh marjoram smells almost floral and has a very strong taste - sweet and slightly floral. Anyway - the chunks of green? Yeah, that's marjoram.
Also, I sprayed the pre-made crust with olive oil and then sprinkled a few pinches of my California-bought Tuscan seasoning over top of it before I spread the "sauce" over top. I laid the tomatoes down in overlapping circles and then sprayed them with olive oil, sprinkled the whole mess with my beloved Mediterranean Sea Salt and sprayed one last time. I might have used a little more of the sea salt blend, but nothing is going to change that we are well past prime tomato season now. For heaven's sake, there are only two days left of November and VeganMoFo!
Well, folks, tomorrow begins my descent into madness, but I do have a few more tricks up my sleeve so don't go anywhere far!
Friday, October 29, 2010
cold = simple overload
So, sometime after I got home last night, I sneezed at least ten times in a row, then proceeded to snuffle my way through the rest of the night. That happens sometimes, as though there is some latent allergen in the air on my walk home from the train which waits until I'm home to make its attack. I used nasal spray, which is completely against my nature, but I was getting really darn tired of sneezing and blowing my nose (my poor red nose also objected).
Now would be an appropriate time to clue you in on why I generally don't treat any of my ailments (not that there are many) with drugs: for one, the long list of side effects which accompanies all meds make me wary; when I was a child, I can remember wondering how the little white pill knew that my head hurt and not something else. As I grew older, I became more aware of the side effects, which essentially mean that the little white pill is really just making its best guess and probably messing up something else in the process. The other reason that I specifically don't take medications for my respiratory system is that they always seem to do the opposite to me that they do to everyone else. Cases in point:
Yes. It did make it worse. My nose refused to stop running, so half a box of tissues later, I read the side effects (yes, that was stupid) and found that on a few freak people, it irritates the nasal passages and increases snot production. Guess who's a freak?
So, although I made a serious effort to get to work today, when I still wasn't ready to walk out the door two hours after I woke up because I had spent so much time blowing and/or dabbing at my poor, abused nose to do other important things like putting on my shoes, I called my boss and called it a day. I slept most of today, but when the sun started to set, I thought I should probably try to be conscious for a little while and see if Mister needed dinner. A couple of hours after joining Mister and Angst in wakefulness, I stood in the kitchen trying to decide whether the Moroccan Lentil Stew or the Bulgur-Black Bean soup would require less (germ-covered) hands-on time. As I was pondering, a [probably germ-fearing] compassionate Mister asked if I would like him to pick something up for dinner.
Blackbird to the rescue! Yes, Mister, I would like the Yukon Pizza with all its delightful, paper-thin, crispy potatoes spread over the focaccia-like crust and liberally sprinkled with sea salt and rosemary. I swear, it's like someone took homemade potato chips and stuck them on a pizza instead of a baking sheet.
And while you're out, why don't you also get me one of their salads? I think the Antipasto Salad sounds fabulous, with marinated slices of eggplant, strips of roasted red peppers, seitan pepperoni, and thin slices of baked tofu on a bed of mixed greens.
Because of the thick, puffy nature of the outer crust (the part not smothered in salty, potatoey goodness), I decided to play with one of my new herb-spice blends from Oliver's. I used a heaping 1/4 teaspoon of the Tuscan Seasoning, spritzed on two sprinkles of white wine vinegar (you know, the amount that comes out when you leave the 3-holed plastic thing on top of the bottle), then stirred in about 2 Tbsp of higher quality olive oil to make a dipping sauce. It was everything I wanted it to be and I can still taste the garlic...mmm....
Time to clean the cat hair off of my faithful winter coat, because it seems the time for light jacket passed sometime last night. If I make it through without too many snuffles, I may reward myself with a glass of tempranillo-shiraz and a square of dark chocolate.
Who am I kidding? Unless I lose consciousness before I finish, I most certainly will reward myself. Even if I'm a complete slacker tomorrow and Sunday, I promise I will actually cook for my impending VeganMoFo posts!
Now would be an appropriate time to clue you in on why I generally don't treat any of my ailments (not that there are many) with drugs: for one, the long list of side effects which accompanies all meds make me wary; when I was a child, I can remember wondering how the little white pill knew that my head hurt and not something else. As I grew older, I became more aware of the side effects, which essentially mean that the little white pill is really just making its best guess and probably messing up something else in the process. The other reason that I specifically don't take medications for my respiratory system is that they always seem to do the opposite to me that they do to everyone else. Cases in point:
- the most alert I have ever been in the morning was the result of an utterly sleepless night thanks to Sudafed. I was "high" for 36 hours before crashing at a dance club and nearly losing consciousness on a chaise.
- the second most alert I have been was the time I took Nyquil immediately before going to bed so I wouldn't keep Mister up with all my snuffling. It did, in fact, prevent me from snuffling and coughing through the night, but it also prevented me from getting a single wink of sleep.
- Contac Day and Night meds have bizarre and opposite effects on me. The happy yellow Day pills make me fall asleep for exactly two hours, then I wake up and I'm fine for the rest of the dose. The evil blue Night pills give me muscle spasms; on a minutely basis, every muscle in my body tenses and releases. Not comfy and not terribly conducive to sleep.
Yes. It did make it worse. My nose refused to stop running, so half a box of tissues later, I read the side effects (yes, that was stupid) and found that on a few freak people, it irritates the nasal passages and increases snot production. Guess who's a freak?
So, although I made a serious effort to get to work today, when I still wasn't ready to walk out the door two hours after I woke up because I had spent so much time blowing and/or dabbing at my poor, abused nose to do other important things like putting on my shoes, I called my boss and called it a day. I slept most of today, but when the sun started to set, I thought I should probably try to be conscious for a little while and see if Mister needed dinner. A couple of hours after joining Mister and Angst in wakefulness, I stood in the kitchen trying to decide whether the Moroccan Lentil Stew or the Bulgur-Black Bean soup would require less (germ-covered) hands-on time. As I was pondering, a [probably germ-fearing] compassionate Mister asked if I would like him to pick something up for dinner.
Blackbird to the rescue! Yes, Mister, I would like the Yukon Pizza with all its delightful, paper-thin, crispy potatoes spread over the focaccia-like crust and liberally sprinkled with sea salt and rosemary. I swear, it's like someone took homemade potato chips and stuck them on a pizza instead of a baking sheet.And while you're out, why don't you also get me one of their salads? I think the Antipasto Salad sounds fabulous, with marinated slices of eggplant, strips of roasted red peppers, seitan pepperoni, and thin slices of baked tofu on a bed of mixed greens.
Because of the thick, puffy nature of the outer crust (the part not smothered in salty, potatoey goodness), I decided to play with one of my new herb-spice blends from Oliver's. I used a heaping 1/4 teaspoon of the Tuscan Seasoning, spritzed on two sprinkles of white wine vinegar (you know, the amount that comes out when you leave the 3-holed plastic thing on top of the bottle), then stirred in about 2 Tbsp of higher quality olive oil to make a dipping sauce. It was everything I wanted it to be and I can still taste the garlic...mmm....
Time to clean the cat hair off of my faithful winter coat, because it seems the time for light jacket passed sometime last night. If I make it through without too many snuffles, I may reward myself with a glass of tempranillo-shiraz and a square of dark chocolate.
Who am I kidding? Unless I lose consciousness before I finish, I most certainly will reward myself. Even if I'm a complete slacker tomorrow and Sunday, I promise I will actually cook for my impending VeganMoFo posts!
Monday, October 18, 2010
can we do that again?
Wow! I don't know what happened yesterday but it seems like a lot of you enjoyed my Apple Almond Oatmeal recipe...or maybe it was my stimulating discourse on queso-less quesadillas? Probably the Via... In any case, I appreciate all the folks who came to my blog and who directed others here as well! Within the first 24 hours Refriedillas and Via-to-go was up, it skyrocketed to the top of my most popular posts, unseating the picture parade post that had held that spot since July. I hope I don't disappoint tonight!
Backing up a moment to yesterday - it was an absotively, posilutely gorgeous Sunday, which I spent wandering all over my fair city, without so much as a light jacket. I really had one major goal in mind - I wanted, nay, needed to go up to Sephora. I have been without pure white eyeshadow for too long and it's really starting to limit my color palettes. I'm also approaching the bitter end of my two favored lipsticks, so I was in search of lip color. Before I had a chance to do that, though, I got notice from Candi KaBoom that Salon Sugar had a cancellation, so I darted across the street for a desperately necessary haircut. Have you noticed I wait for the last possible minute to do most things? For the record, I have never run out of gas....in my Prizm.
That's actually a really dorky picture of me, but it does show off my hair. It also shows off how crooked my face is, but check out that lipstick! I did head up to Sephora after getting my hairs did and I got my white eyeshadow, as well as the lipstain you see modeled so demurely above, and a bonus prize - I found vegan, roll-on perfume!
Urban Decay Yeyo matte eyeshadow and Greedy lip envy lipstain, with my shiny new vial of Pacifica Mediterranean Fig. I don't ordinarily like smelling like food (aside from garlic), but it's really more of a green floral scent and very subtle.
Later in the evening, Mister and I braved the severely beautiful weather and went on a date to Pizzeria Stella. We split an appetizer of broccoli rabe and rosemary flatbread, then Mister got a quattroformaggio (=4 cheeses) pizza while I got the marinara - spiced sauce, sprinkled with fresh oregano (what a treat!) and juicy slices of garlic. I washed it down with the house red, which is a light, easy-to-drink Montepulciano d'Abruzzo and Mister had a Kutztown Red Cream Soda.
Today, though, was back-to-reality time for me, and even though I think I nodded off on the train, I did make it up to work and then got through most of the day by reminding myself that this was a three day week and when I was finished today, I'd be 33% through it and that much closer to my California vacation! Yes, in case you were wondering, I do have "California Girls" stuck in my head, relentlessly "hearing" the chorus over and over again.
I rewarded myself by making Bok Choy and Baked Tofu Stir-Fry in Ginger-Citrus Sauce from Fat Free Vegan blog.
Aside from lacking mushrooms, I'm happy to report that mine doesn't look too different from Susan V's and that's always a victory in my book. Her picture is much prettier, but she is a much better photographer than I am and almost definitely has a much better camera for that very reason. Regardless of the way it looks, this little dinner was just as tasty as I had hoped it would be.
In her recipe, Susan mentions that the sauce will only have a hint of citrus flavor which can be enhanced, should the chef desire, by adding in some grated zest toward the end of cooking. I have to admit, I didn't believe that it would be that subtle, since the freshly squeezed OJ is more than half of the liquid in the sauce, but she was right - it was very subtle and as a result, the sauce was perfect. I would have liked it to be a little thicker, but it clung to the leaves of the bok choy magnificently. I was really just excited that Whole Foods decided to have baby bok choys this week, because I've actually been wanting to make this for the two weeks since I found it, but sometimes WF is a bit of a stinker about consistently stocking non-local foods. The nerve! ;)
Tomorrow, I have one last "fresh" recipe to make before we enter "Eat everything in the house" mode. Honestly, we'll only be away for a long weekend and I just finished soup that had been hanging out in the fridge for longer than that, but there's something about actually leaving the apartment for an extended period of time that makes me panic that any food left in the entire apartment will rot and sprout new wiggly life. Hopefully, nothing will eat Angst's auntie/pet-sitter!
Backing up a moment to yesterday - it was an absotively, posilutely gorgeous Sunday, which I spent wandering all over my fair city, without so much as a light jacket. I really had one major goal in mind - I wanted, nay, needed to go up to Sephora. I have been without pure white eyeshadow for too long and it's really starting to limit my color palettes. I'm also approaching the bitter end of my two favored lipsticks, so I was in search of lip color. Before I had a chance to do that, though, I got notice from Candi KaBoom that Salon Sugar had a cancellation, so I darted across the street for a desperately necessary haircut. Have you noticed I wait for the last possible minute to do most things? For the record, I have never run out of gas....in my Prizm.
That's actually a really dorky picture of me, but it does show off my hair. It also shows off how crooked my face is, but check out that lipstick! I did head up to Sephora after getting my hairs did and I got my white eyeshadow, as well as the lipstain you see modeled so demurely above, and a bonus prize - I found vegan, roll-on perfume!
Urban Decay Yeyo matte eyeshadow and Greedy lip envy lipstain, with my shiny new vial of Pacifica Mediterranean Fig. I don't ordinarily like smelling like food (aside from garlic), but it's really more of a green floral scent and very subtle.
Later in the evening, Mister and I braved the severely beautiful weather and went on a date to Pizzeria Stella. We split an appetizer of broccoli rabe and rosemary flatbread, then Mister got a quattroformaggio (=4 cheeses) pizza while I got the marinara - spiced sauce, sprinkled with fresh oregano (what a treat!) and juicy slices of garlic. I washed it down with the house red, which is a light, easy-to-drink Montepulciano d'Abruzzo and Mister had a Kutztown Red Cream Soda.
Today, though, was back-to-reality time for me, and even though I think I nodded off on the train, I did make it up to work and then got through most of the day by reminding myself that this was a three day week and when I was finished today, I'd be 33% through it and that much closer to my California vacation! Yes, in case you were wondering, I do have "California Girls" stuck in my head, relentlessly "hearing" the chorus over and over again.
I rewarded myself by making Bok Choy and Baked Tofu Stir-Fry in Ginger-Citrus Sauce from Fat Free Vegan blog.
Aside from lacking mushrooms, I'm happy to report that mine doesn't look too different from Susan V's and that's always a victory in my book. Her picture is much prettier, but she is a much better photographer than I am and almost definitely has a much better camera for that very reason. Regardless of the way it looks, this little dinner was just as tasty as I had hoped it would be.
In her recipe, Susan mentions that the sauce will only have a hint of citrus flavor which can be enhanced, should the chef desire, by adding in some grated zest toward the end of cooking. I have to admit, I didn't believe that it would be that subtle, since the freshly squeezed OJ is more than half of the liquid in the sauce, but she was right - it was very subtle and as a result, the sauce was perfect. I would have liked it to be a little thicker, but it clung to the leaves of the bok choy magnificently. I was really just excited that Whole Foods decided to have baby bok choys this week, because I've actually been wanting to make this for the two weeks since I found it, but sometimes WF is a bit of a stinker about consistently stocking non-local foods. The nerve! ;)
Tomorrow, I have one last "fresh" recipe to make before we enter "Eat everything in the house" mode. Honestly, we'll only be away for a long weekend and I just finished soup that had been hanging out in the fridge for longer than that, but there's something about actually leaving the apartment for an extended period of time that makes me panic that any food left in the entire apartment will rot and sprout new wiggly life. Hopefully, nothing will eat Angst's auntie/pet-sitter!
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
you people = a (welcome) challenge
I have mentioned before that I was kind of a thorn in the side of the catering service at our old offices, asking pesky questions like, "Is there chicken broth in the vegetable soup?" I don't like to inconvenience people, but I will admit that I was quite pleased when after a few inquiries, the catering manager did two things: first, he started labeling whether a soup was vegetarian or not; also, there were two tureens, and after a short while, I found that one of them always held a vegetarian soup to balance whatever was in the other. I appreciated this effort and was sure to thank him and make compliments where appropriate. More time passed and I found that creative and substantial vegetarian options were finding their way into the weekly menu, and again, I found the time to thank the staff for that effort.
Two months ago, we moved into our new offices and acclimated to a new on-site caterer. As a welcome and thank you gift, each member of the staff was given a travel mug (emblazoned, of course, with our brand logo) and inside was a $5 giftcard to the cafeteria. With nothing to lose, I wandered in one day...and wandered around...and came up relatively empty-handed. I greatly appreciate their ingredient cards beside their soup tureens, but on the day I was there, both tureens contained animal soup. All the hot food was also out-of-bounds and even the salad had chicken on it. To their credit, they carry Luna bars, and I was about to try to make a meal out of them when I remembered some colleagues excitedly telling me the salad bar had tofu. Spunky had also shared that there were snack-sized hummus-n-pretzel cups. Just as I was wandering toward the salad bar, the chef came out from his station and asked if he could help me find anything. I told him I was vegan and was just investigating my options. He looked dismayed, but as I was to learn, he was not dismayed because I was being difficult.
What have I learned from these two experiences? Real cooks/chefs welcome the challenge someone like me brings to the table. I think they don't realize how bored they get within the established parameters of "normal" cuisine until someone comes along and says, "Well, it's great what you're doing here, but can you make something substantial and palatable that does not involve dead animals?" Since that first interaction, the chef has approached me twice - once in the cafe, while I was making another salad, he came over to show me the marinated barley salad he had added to the line, proudly showing it to me and telling me it is vegan and that he plans to experiment in coming months with a variety of heirloom grains he had ordered. Today, we had a health fair at work, and the catering company was represented and had a tray of adorable little bamboo boat with plastic demitasse spoons so you could eat the mini wheatberry salads. They even gave out recipe cards, and again, my new friend was there, excitedly letting me know that the salads were vegan. I was touched.
This is a marked improvement over HotDogMan.
Last night, I made Coconut Curry Rice from Vegan on the Cheap.
The best part about this was how well-portioned it came out. It provided enough for Mister and I to fill our bellies, as well as providing my lunch today. It was tasty and smelled good, but was nothing special. I realized while putting together the ingredients that the way Robin keeps things so cheap is by relying heavily on frozen foods and pantry staples. I don't think I would make a menu exclusively from this book again, once I get through this week - I need more fresh foods, especially when I am so aware that the winter is coming with the threat of stealing all my fresh foods from me. It is inexpensive and convenient, but I can't eat a whole week of pantry foods.
Tonight, we had the Tuscan White Bean Pizza.
It was so good and I was happy for the freshly sliced Roma tomatoes decorating the top. The base is a simple but flavorful "sauce" of mashed beans and garlic, and I used a pre-made pizza crust from Whole Foods.
Served with a bowl of mixed olives, we heart pizza!
Two months ago, we moved into our new offices and acclimated to a new on-site caterer. As a welcome and thank you gift, each member of the staff was given a travel mug (emblazoned, of course, with our brand logo) and inside was a $5 giftcard to the cafeteria. With nothing to lose, I wandered in one day...and wandered around...and came up relatively empty-handed. I greatly appreciate their ingredient cards beside their soup tureens, but on the day I was there, both tureens contained animal soup. All the hot food was also out-of-bounds and even the salad had chicken on it. To their credit, they carry Luna bars, and I was about to try to make a meal out of them when I remembered some colleagues excitedly telling me the salad bar had tofu. Spunky had also shared that there were snack-sized hummus-n-pretzel cups. Just as I was wandering toward the salad bar, the chef came out from his station and asked if he could help me find anything. I told him I was vegan and was just investigating my options. He looked dismayed, but as I was to learn, he was not dismayed because I was being difficult.
What have I learned from these two experiences? Real cooks/chefs welcome the challenge someone like me brings to the table. I think they don't realize how bored they get within the established parameters of "normal" cuisine until someone comes along and says, "Well, it's great what you're doing here, but can you make something substantial and palatable that does not involve dead animals?" Since that first interaction, the chef has approached me twice - once in the cafe, while I was making another salad, he came over to show me the marinated barley salad he had added to the line, proudly showing it to me and telling me it is vegan and that he plans to experiment in coming months with a variety of heirloom grains he had ordered. Today, we had a health fair at work, and the catering company was represented and had a tray of adorable little bamboo boat with plastic demitasse spoons so you could eat the mini wheatberry salads. They even gave out recipe cards, and again, my new friend was there, excitedly letting me know that the salads were vegan. I was touched.
This is a marked improvement over HotDogMan.
Last night, I made Coconut Curry Rice from Vegan on the Cheap.
The best part about this was how well-portioned it came out. It provided enough for Mister and I to fill our bellies, as well as providing my lunch today. It was tasty and smelled good, but was nothing special. I realized while putting together the ingredients that the way Robin keeps things so cheap is by relying heavily on frozen foods and pantry staples. I don't think I would make a menu exclusively from this book again, once I get through this week - I need more fresh foods, especially when I am so aware that the winter is coming with the threat of stealing all my fresh foods from me. It is inexpensive and convenient, but I can't eat a whole week of pantry foods.
Tonight, we had the Tuscan White Bean Pizza.
It was so good and I was happy for the freshly sliced Roma tomatoes decorating the top. The base is a simple but flavorful "sauce" of mashed beans and garlic, and I used a pre-made pizza crust from Whole Foods.
Served with a bowl of mixed olives, we heart pizza!
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
the B*tch is back
I need to wrap up this review before my mother disowns me.
But first, Dinner!
I am ridiculously excited about tonight's dinner. As you can probably surmise from the picture, we had Tomato Pie with Greens and Beans from The Urban Vegan - hold your brains inside your heads, folks, I know that must have been a shock!
I couldn't find pre-made focaccia bread and I have a thing against yeast breads on work nights, so I substituted a faithful standby: mediterranean flatbread. It looks cleverly enough like a real pizza crust, though, doesn't it?
I also didn't feel like devoting over an hour to letting Dynise's special marinara sauce simmer while I wandered stupidly around my constricting apartment, so I slathered on a generous portion of Bertolli Fire-Roasted Tomato with Cabernet Sauvignon marinara sauce instead. It was perhaps too generous a smear, or maybe I didn't really need to sprinkle Mediterranean sea salt blend and garlic powder over it, but it was pretty intense. I also wish I'd been a little more artful in my basil-scattering.
I served it with mixed olives and the Greens and Beans, using my favorite green - Kale.
It was perfect - the kale brought a dark, almost bitter, earthy tone to the otherwise very bright dish, so it became quite natural for Mister and me to pile bites of our greens-n-beans on top of our tomato pies to complement and calm the bright acidity of the tomatoes.
There was another thing that played with the flavors on our tomato pies: our first ever experience with Vegan Parmesan 'cheese.'
It smelled just like the "real thing" but without all the fat, calories, sodium, cholesterol, morphine, and rocket fuel.
Rocket fuel?
Yes. Speaking of great segues....on with the show! We'll pick up with...
Chapter 5: The Dairy Disaster - if shock is what the authors are going for, they definitely get your attention in the first paragraph of the chapter: Go suck your mother's tits. Go on. Suck your mother's tits. You think this is ridiculous? It is. Get ready to use your head.
One of the reasons to eschew dairy which has made sense to me for years (even when I didn't make any active effort to avoid cheese and ice cream) is that cows' milk is for baby cows, just like human mothers nurse their young. In fact, to put that spin on it, can you imagine the contempt and controversy a woman would drum up if she nursed an abandoned baby kitten until it was ready to wean? It's really no different - we are the only species that drinks another species milk, as well as the only species that continues to drink milk after we are "weaned" as infants. That is a relatively well-known fact in the veg-community, but it bears repeating. Additionally, this may or may not be news, but lactose intolerance is actually the body's willful adaptation to the weaning process - you are supposed to be lactose intolerant because you aren't supposed to drink cow's milk when you're "all growns up."
In case that information doesn't speak to the "buy in" of why you wouldn't want to drink milk - AKA lacteal secretions of a cow - how about some health reasons?
Despite the lies we've been fed...by the milk industry...consuming milk not only does not prevent osteoporosis, it can actually cause it. The nations with the highest incidence of the disease are also the nations with the highest dairy consumption.
Cows are milked by machines, not people. Machines don't care if they chafe the udders and cause infection, nor do they stop milking once the pus begins to flow. In an effort to filter out some of the pus (yes, you read that right - some), the milk is pasteurized, which effectively kills all of the good qualities the milk once had, while not completely ridding it of the pus and pesticides that found their way in during milking.
According to the FDA, "virtually 100% of the cheese products produced and sold in the U.S. has detectable pesticide residues."
Chapter 6: You Are What You Eat - put your helmets on kids, because we're about to go on the most traumatic ride in the park. I will spare you a great deal of this chapter because I can't bring myself to look at the graphic accounts of cruelty described by slaughterhouse workers, and because I don't operate like PETA - I don't think that helps matters, it just makes you look like a lunatic militant.
The majority of this chapter is devoted to tales of horror from the stunning, bleeding, defeathering, and slaughter of the once-living creatures that now decorate plates across the states to the filth and contamination rampant in meat processing plants. I will only subject you to short accounts of a very long chapter.
Here is a direct quote from a worker in a poultry plant: I personally have seen rotten meat - you can tell by the odor. This rotten meat is mixed with the fresh meat and sold for baby food [seriously???]. We are asked to mix it with the fresh food, and this is the way it is sold. You can see the worms inside the meat. How much trust can you really put in an industry that is trying to give your babies salmonella?
The real "a-ha" moment, though is that after they describe all of this - the cruelty, the horror and grief felt by the animals as they're led to slaughter, the infected, pesticide-ridden, hormonally-altered "meat" - they play a game of pretend: Let's make believe that all the animals killed for human consumption are healthy, happy, free of antibiotics, steroids, and pesticides and are humanely raised and slaughtered. Pretend you are eating 'perfect meat.' Great. But what exactly are you eating? "Meat" is the decomposing, decaying, rotting flesh of a dead animal. No matter how fresh your little package of Perdue looks and no matter what lies have been spread about "fresh" meat, please remember that with all creatures, the moment a being dies, it begins to break down and return to the earth.
Chapter 7: The Myths and Lies About Protein - This chapter is the longest, best answer ever to the perennial [and boring and offensive] question, "But where do you get your protein??" Do you know who is suffering from protein deficiency? People who are literally starving. That's it. Seriously. According to the American Dietetic Association, a vegetarian diet still provides twice as much protein as a person needs in a day. How much is that, you ask? From as little as 18 grams to as many as 60 grams. There is actually much more evidence pointing to the ill effects of diets that are overloaded with protein - for one thing, it can interfere with the absorption of calcium, leading to osteoporosis...because it is actually leaching calcium from your bones.
Chapter 8: Pooping - This chapter provides a more tangible illustration of balancing calories in with calories out. It makes sense, though - pooping is your body's way of expelling what's left after it picks out all the good parts of what you eat. If you aren't pooping adequately, what's "left over" is just rotting inside your intestines until it can make its getaway. How does waste escape? By binding with fiber - if you're overdosing on protein at the expense of fiber, you run the risk of stopping yourself up, which isn't comfortable and isn't conducive to the healthy body you surely desire.
Chapter 9: Have No Faith: Government Agencies Don't Give a Sh*t About Your Health - I really think the title says it all, but if you've been following the thread of the book, I hope you're wondering exactly why the authors would say that.
More or less, they "connect the dots" where the dots are the people who are in charge of the milk industry, the meat industry, the sugar industry, etc, and are also the people in charge of the USDA and FDA. There are tons of conflicts of interest going on, but the real reason you, the consumer, should not trust these people with your health and safety is this: The U.S. Department of Agriculture was not created for your interests; it was created to protect farmers. It is their best interest in which the USDA is invested and their interests and yours may not coincide.
For example, if a farmer should volunteer to have their livestock tested for epidemic diseases like Avian Flu or Mad Cows Disease, that animal would be one of the .0005714% of food-animals tested in this country. By way of comparison, Japan tests every slaughterhouse-bound animal.
When I was in high school, rumor had it that someone had seen the big cartons of meat delivered to the cafeteria kitchen, and they were marked "Grade F but Edible." Apparently dog food is Grade D. That may have actually be true, however, since the government uses our money to purchase surplus/unwanted meat from the various industries and then feed that meat to America's children through the "virtuous" National School Lunch Program.
P.S. We are the only industrialized nation that allows for the use of Bovine Growth Hormone (BGH) in our dairy supply.
Did you forget about the Rocket Fuel? I didn't - because of various government tests through the decades, a certain amount of rocket fuel has infiltrated the ground and feed of the animals milked and killed for human consumption. According to the Environmental Working Group's research, every sample tested in Texas (in 1999) came up positive for rocket fuel, and most milk in California had 5 times the amount considered "safe" by the EPA.
Chapter 10: Don't Be a Pussy - despite the title of the chapter, this is actually a really long and very positive pep talk, meant to motivate and inspire the readers to take what they've learned and let it change their lives. It also touches on fasting as a great way to distance yourself from previous vices and detox your body from the damage you've inadvertently done. There are tips spread throughout the chapter to help the reader make a move and stay strong. The chapter concludes with a comprehensive but accessible list of essential vitamins and how to make sure you have them in your diet.
Chapter 11: Let's Eat - as you might expect, the entire chapter is devoted to lists of "acceptable" grocery items as well as a very helpful 4 week guide to becoming a happier, healthier, and yes, skinnier you.
Chapter 12: FYI - a good umbrella for miscellaneous tips and tidbits about living the good life.
Chapter 13: Use Your Head - another peptalk, this one is less about building up your self-esteem and making you feel good about the choices you have presumably made to live a different life and more about empowering you to become everything you ever wanted to be. This is like self-esteem on performance enhancing drugs (like juice...freshly pressed).
Thus finally ends my book review/tirade. I will leave you with the same words our authors chose:
The preface from Old MacDonald's Factory Farm by C. David Coats:
But first, Dinner!
I am ridiculously excited about tonight's dinner. As you can probably surmise from the picture, we had Tomato Pie with Greens and Beans from The Urban Vegan - hold your brains inside your heads, folks, I know that must have been a shock!
I couldn't find pre-made focaccia bread and I have a thing against yeast breads on work nights, so I substituted a faithful standby: mediterranean flatbread. It looks cleverly enough like a real pizza crust, though, doesn't it?
I also didn't feel like devoting over an hour to letting Dynise's special marinara sauce simmer while I wandered stupidly around my constricting apartment, so I slathered on a generous portion of Bertolli Fire-Roasted Tomato with Cabernet Sauvignon marinara sauce instead. It was perhaps too generous a smear, or maybe I didn't really need to sprinkle Mediterranean sea salt blend and garlic powder over it, but it was pretty intense. I also wish I'd been a little more artful in my basil-scattering.
I served it with mixed olives and the Greens and Beans, using my favorite green - Kale.
It was perfect - the kale brought a dark, almost bitter, earthy tone to the otherwise very bright dish, so it became quite natural for Mister and me to pile bites of our greens-n-beans on top of our tomato pies to complement and calm the bright acidity of the tomatoes.
There was another thing that played with the flavors on our tomato pies: our first ever experience with Vegan Parmesan 'cheese.'It smelled just like the "real thing" but without all the fat, calories, sodium, cholesterol, morphine, and rocket fuel.
Rocket fuel?
Yes. Speaking of great segues....on with the show! We'll pick up with...
Chapter 5: The Dairy Disaster - if shock is what the authors are going for, they definitely get your attention in the first paragraph of the chapter: Go suck your mother's tits. Go on. Suck your mother's tits. You think this is ridiculous? It is. Get ready to use your head.
One of the reasons to eschew dairy which has made sense to me for years (even when I didn't make any active effort to avoid cheese and ice cream) is that cows' milk is for baby cows, just like human mothers nurse their young. In fact, to put that spin on it, can you imagine the contempt and controversy a woman would drum up if she nursed an abandoned baby kitten until it was ready to wean? It's really no different - we are the only species that drinks another species milk, as well as the only species that continues to drink milk after we are "weaned" as infants. That is a relatively well-known fact in the veg-community, but it bears repeating. Additionally, this may or may not be news, but lactose intolerance is actually the body's willful adaptation to the weaning process - you are supposed to be lactose intolerant because you aren't supposed to drink cow's milk when you're "all growns up."
In case that information doesn't speak to the "buy in" of why you wouldn't want to drink milk - AKA lacteal secretions of a cow - how about some health reasons?
Despite the lies we've been fed...by the milk industry...consuming milk not only does not prevent osteoporosis, it can actually cause it. The nations with the highest incidence of the disease are also the nations with the highest dairy consumption.
Cows are milked by machines, not people. Machines don't care if they chafe the udders and cause infection, nor do they stop milking once the pus begins to flow. In an effort to filter out some of the pus (yes, you read that right - some), the milk is pasteurized, which effectively kills all of the good qualities the milk once had, while not completely ridding it of the pus and pesticides that found their way in during milking.
According to the FDA, "virtually 100% of the cheese products produced and sold in the U.S. has detectable pesticide residues."
Chapter 6: You Are What You Eat - put your helmets on kids, because we're about to go on the most traumatic ride in the park. I will spare you a great deal of this chapter because I can't bring myself to look at the graphic accounts of cruelty described by slaughterhouse workers, and because I don't operate like PETA - I don't think that helps matters, it just makes you look like a lunatic militant.
The majority of this chapter is devoted to tales of horror from the stunning, bleeding, defeathering, and slaughter of the once-living creatures that now decorate plates across the states to the filth and contamination rampant in meat processing plants. I will only subject you to short accounts of a very long chapter.
Here is a direct quote from a worker in a poultry plant: I personally have seen rotten meat - you can tell by the odor. This rotten meat is mixed with the fresh meat and sold for baby food [seriously???]. We are asked to mix it with the fresh food, and this is the way it is sold. You can see the worms inside the meat. How much trust can you really put in an industry that is trying to give your babies salmonella?
The real "a-ha" moment, though is that after they describe all of this - the cruelty, the horror and grief felt by the animals as they're led to slaughter, the infected, pesticide-ridden, hormonally-altered "meat" - they play a game of pretend: Let's make believe that all the animals killed for human consumption are healthy, happy, free of antibiotics, steroids, and pesticides and are humanely raised and slaughtered. Pretend you are eating 'perfect meat.' Great. But what exactly are you eating? "Meat" is the decomposing, decaying, rotting flesh of a dead animal. No matter how fresh your little package of Perdue looks and no matter what lies have been spread about "fresh" meat, please remember that with all creatures, the moment a being dies, it begins to break down and return to the earth.
Chapter 7: The Myths and Lies About Protein - This chapter is the longest, best answer ever to the perennial [and boring and offensive] question, "But where do you get your protein??" Do you know who is suffering from protein deficiency? People who are literally starving. That's it. Seriously. According to the American Dietetic Association, a vegetarian diet still provides twice as much protein as a person needs in a day. How much is that, you ask? From as little as 18 grams to as many as 60 grams. There is actually much more evidence pointing to the ill effects of diets that are overloaded with protein - for one thing, it can interfere with the absorption of calcium, leading to osteoporosis...because it is actually leaching calcium from your bones.
Chapter 8: Pooping - This chapter provides a more tangible illustration of balancing calories in with calories out. It makes sense, though - pooping is your body's way of expelling what's left after it picks out all the good parts of what you eat. If you aren't pooping adequately, what's "left over" is just rotting inside your intestines until it can make its getaway. How does waste escape? By binding with fiber - if you're overdosing on protein at the expense of fiber, you run the risk of stopping yourself up, which isn't comfortable and isn't conducive to the healthy body you surely desire.
Chapter 9: Have No Faith: Government Agencies Don't Give a Sh*t About Your Health - I really think the title says it all, but if you've been following the thread of the book, I hope you're wondering exactly why the authors would say that.
More or less, they "connect the dots" where the dots are the people who are in charge of the milk industry, the meat industry, the sugar industry, etc, and are also the people in charge of the USDA and FDA. There are tons of conflicts of interest going on, but the real reason you, the consumer, should not trust these people with your health and safety is this: The U.S. Department of Agriculture was not created for your interests; it was created to protect farmers. It is their best interest in which the USDA is invested and their interests and yours may not coincide.
For example, if a farmer should volunteer to have their livestock tested for epidemic diseases like Avian Flu or Mad Cows Disease, that animal would be one of the .0005714% of food-animals tested in this country. By way of comparison, Japan tests every slaughterhouse-bound animal.
When I was in high school, rumor had it that someone had seen the big cartons of meat delivered to the cafeteria kitchen, and they were marked "Grade F but Edible." Apparently dog food is Grade D. That may have actually be true, however, since the government uses our money to purchase surplus/unwanted meat from the various industries and then feed that meat to America's children through the "virtuous" National School Lunch Program.
P.S. We are the only industrialized nation that allows for the use of Bovine Growth Hormone (BGH) in our dairy supply.
Did you forget about the Rocket Fuel? I didn't - because of various government tests through the decades, a certain amount of rocket fuel has infiltrated the ground and feed of the animals milked and killed for human consumption. According to the Environmental Working Group's research, every sample tested in Texas (in 1999) came up positive for rocket fuel, and most milk in California had 5 times the amount considered "safe" by the EPA.
Chapter 10: Don't Be a Pussy - despite the title of the chapter, this is actually a really long and very positive pep talk, meant to motivate and inspire the readers to take what they've learned and let it change their lives. It also touches on fasting as a great way to distance yourself from previous vices and detox your body from the damage you've inadvertently done. There are tips spread throughout the chapter to help the reader make a move and stay strong. The chapter concludes with a comprehensive but accessible list of essential vitamins and how to make sure you have them in your diet.
Chapter 11: Let's Eat - as you might expect, the entire chapter is devoted to lists of "acceptable" grocery items as well as a very helpful 4 week guide to becoming a happier, healthier, and yes, skinnier you.
Chapter 12: FYI - a good umbrella for miscellaneous tips and tidbits about living the good life.
Chapter 13: Use Your Head - another peptalk, this one is less about building up your self-esteem and making you feel good about the choices you have presumably made to live a different life and more about empowering you to become everything you ever wanted to be. This is like self-esteem on performance enhancing drugs (like juice...freshly pressed).
Thus finally ends my book review/tirade. I will leave you with the same words our authors chose:
The preface from Old MacDonald's Factory Farm by C. David Coats:
Isn't man an amazing animal? He kills wildlife by the millions in order to protect his domestic animals and their feed. Then he kills domestic animals by the billions and eat them. This in turn kills man by the millions, because eating all those animals leads to degenerative - and fatal - health conditions like heart disease, kidney disease, and cancer. So then man tortures and kills millions more animals to look for cures for these diseases. Elsewhere, millions of other human beings are being killed by hunger and malnutrition because food they could eat is being used to fatten domestic animals. Meanwhile, some people are dying of sad laughter at the absurdity of man, who kills so easily and so violently, and once a year sends out cards praying for "Peace on Earth."
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Donna Reed takes a walk on the wild side
Alternate title: Sometimes, courage backfires.
I can say with a certain degree of certainty that the last two nights' dinners were not winners and it is highly unlikely they will find their way to the table again. Fortunately for you, the telling should be at least somewhat entertaining, in that can't-look-away-from-a-trainwreck kind of way.
Last night, I made Seitan Noodle Casserole, which was only marginally less of a disaster than tonight's dinner. Let me start with the story of why I thought this was a good idea:
Once upon a time, my mom made this really great casserole that we unanimously loved as a family. I don't know if it actually had a name, but if memory serves, it involved shredded chicken, cheddar cheese, macaroni, and probably a condensed soup product. In any case, we loved it and it was apparently easy to make, so it became a "regular" in Mom's dinner rotation. She used it to bribe me into eating when I might not be otherwise interested and it worked every time.
For the life of me I can't imagine what made me think of this...perhaps I was craving a comfort food, perhaps I yearn for simpler times, but I was suddenly struck with an overwhelming desire to recreate this old Better Homes & Gardens classic in a cruelty-free recipe.
With any luck, my mom is looking at this picture and saying "Oh my heavens, it looks just like the casserole I used to make!" If that is actually occurring, let me say this one thing in your defense, Mom: It was nothing like yours (you win).
It does actually look tasty, but it didn't come close to the taste and texture I was trying for. I am going to try to tweak it a little and give it at least one more chance because there were a few things I knew right away I would do differently a second time.
1. saute the seitan until it becomes a little brown and crispy, rather than baking it while still "raw."
2. same with the peppers, but substitute "softened" for "crispy"
3. add some seasoning agents to make the "cheese" sauce a little more intense
4. use cheddar Daiya (or Ricemilk cheese)
The main problems in this version were the mildness of the cheese sauce (Mister said it resembled marshmallows after a few bites) and the fact that the only Daiya left at Whole Foods was mozzarella-style. I think I would still like to try the cheddar-style.
Let's talk about Daiya for a moment. Jess at Get Sconed has made her reticence toward this cheese-replacement a well-known fact. Nevertheless, Daiya is taking the vegan foodie universe by storm, so I wanted to give it a try. I've never actually used any other non-dairy cheese in a way that required melting, so I really don't have a point of comparison. Here is how the mozz-style Daiya melted on top of my fail-casserole:
Not overly convincing, if you ask me (which we'll presume you did, since you're still reading). Also, not terribly appetizing - this opinion was vehemently reinforced by Mister when he made a concerted effort to eat around the "fake cheese." Neither of us is impressed and Mister was very grateful I didn't taint tonight's dinner with the 1/2 cup left over.
Tonight, then, I thought I would try to make up for last night's less-than-perfect dinner. What better way to suck up to Mister than with his favorite food: Pizza! I pulled out my VegNews and my brand spankin' new jar of sumac and put together Zesty Za'atar Pizzas with sliced Roma tomatoes and Kalamata olives.
It's very pretty, yes? That's about where the enjoyment ends. First, that crust was one of the most difficult-to-cut crusts ever and required my pizza roller-cutter as well as my super-sharp Kuhn Rikon paring knife. I may have nearly lost my temper, too, and nearly given up on dinner. Maybe.
Because I couldn't find any pre-blended za'atar, I purchased a jar of sumac and put it together with the other ingredients in a recipe I had for the blend. I coated the pizza crust with oil, sprinkled the za'atar all over it, artistically arranged the tomato slices and olives, re-coated with oil and baked for about ten minutes. Mister and I learned a valuable lesson from our walk on the wild side:
It's good to be adventurous...as long as you know it will sometimes lead to absolute and undeniable failure.
We have decided (unanimously) that we aren't fans of sumac or za'atar, at least not in the quantities required to coat a pizza. We ended up scraping a great deal of the spices off and trying to salvage dinner...
I had hoped that the casserole would have been awesome, comforting, and amazing so I could share a recipe with you, but I am no Mozart and sometimes I have to erase things and redo them to get them right. If I do accomplish what I want to with that recipe, I will post it then, but until that time I want to encourage everyone to head over to chicvegan.com (you can also link from the right side blogroll) because my Banana Blondies recipe was featured!
I can say with a certain degree of certainty that the last two nights' dinners were not winners and it is highly unlikely they will find their way to the table again. Fortunately for you, the telling should be at least somewhat entertaining, in that can't-look-away-from-a-trainwreck kind of way.
Last night, I made Seitan Noodle Casserole, which was only marginally less of a disaster than tonight's dinner. Let me start with the story of why I thought this was a good idea:
Once upon a time, my mom made this really great casserole that we unanimously loved as a family. I don't know if it actually had a name, but if memory serves, it involved shredded chicken, cheddar cheese, macaroni, and probably a condensed soup product. In any case, we loved it and it was apparently easy to make, so it became a "regular" in Mom's dinner rotation. She used it to bribe me into eating when I might not be otherwise interested and it worked every time.
For the life of me I can't imagine what made me think of this...perhaps I was craving a comfort food, perhaps I yearn for simpler times, but I was suddenly struck with an overwhelming desire to recreate this old Better Homes & Gardens classic in a cruelty-free recipe.
With any luck, my mom is looking at this picture and saying "Oh my heavens, it looks just like the casserole I used to make!" If that is actually occurring, let me say this one thing in your defense, Mom: It was nothing like yours (you win).
It does actually look tasty, but it didn't come close to the taste and texture I was trying for. I am going to try to tweak it a little and give it at least one more chance because there were a few things I knew right away I would do differently a second time.
1. saute the seitan until it becomes a little brown and crispy, rather than baking it while still "raw."
2. same with the peppers, but substitute "softened" for "crispy"
3. add some seasoning agents to make the "cheese" sauce a little more intense
4. use cheddar Daiya (or Ricemilk cheese)
The main problems in this version were the mildness of the cheese sauce (Mister said it resembled marshmallows after a few bites) and the fact that the only Daiya left at Whole Foods was mozzarella-style. I think I would still like to try the cheddar-style.
Let's talk about Daiya for a moment. Jess at Get Sconed has made her reticence toward this cheese-replacement a well-known fact. Nevertheless, Daiya is taking the vegan foodie universe by storm, so I wanted to give it a try. I've never actually used any other non-dairy cheese in a way that required melting, so I really don't have a point of comparison. Here is how the mozz-style Daiya melted on top of my fail-casserole:
Not overly convincing, if you ask me (which we'll presume you did, since you're still reading). Also, not terribly appetizing - this opinion was vehemently reinforced by Mister when he made a concerted effort to eat around the "fake cheese." Neither of us is impressed and Mister was very grateful I didn't taint tonight's dinner with the 1/2 cup left over.
Tonight, then, I thought I would try to make up for last night's less-than-perfect dinner. What better way to suck up to Mister than with his favorite food: Pizza! I pulled out my VegNews and my brand spankin' new jar of sumac and put together Zesty Za'atar Pizzas with sliced Roma tomatoes and Kalamata olives.
It's very pretty, yes? That's about where the enjoyment ends. First, that crust was one of the most difficult-to-cut crusts ever and required my pizza roller-cutter as well as my super-sharp Kuhn Rikon paring knife. I may have nearly lost my temper, too, and nearly given up on dinner. Maybe.
Because I couldn't find any pre-blended za'atar, I purchased a jar of sumac and put it together with the other ingredients in a recipe I had for the blend. I coated the pizza crust with oil, sprinkled the za'atar all over it, artistically arranged the tomato slices and olives, re-coated with oil and baked for about ten minutes. Mister and I learned a valuable lesson from our walk on the wild side:
It's good to be adventurous...as long as you know it will sometimes lead to absolute and undeniable failure.
We have decided (unanimously) that we aren't fans of sumac or za'atar, at least not in the quantities required to coat a pizza. We ended up scraping a great deal of the spices off and trying to salvage dinner...
I had hoped that the casserole would have been awesome, comforting, and amazing so I could share a recipe with you, but I am no Mozart and sometimes I have to erase things and redo them to get them right. If I do accomplish what I want to with that recipe, I will post it then, but until that time I want to encourage everyone to head over to chicvegan.com (you can also link from the right side blogroll) because my Banana Blondies recipe was featured!
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