Vegan To-do List

Here’s a funny thing about Texas: since moving here, I have become way more political and outspoken than I have ever been.  Yesterday, for example, I got into a very exciting, perhaps even heated, debate about human evolution, sexual monogamy, and vegetarianism.  I think we tread in dangerous territory when we justify our behavior by saying, “Evolution made me do it!”  At the same time, I study how genetics influence behavior, so of course I think behavior is constrained by genetics and thus by evolution.

For me, a common thread that runs through my thoughts about humanity is compassion.  We have the ability to make compassionate choices, whether the choice is what we put on the dinner table or how we conduct our romantic lives.  I feel really inspired these days, being able to voice loudly and clearly the fact that I value compassion, and it’s not just lip service or some sort of social pressure to look like a “nice girl.”  (Oh Lordy, how I hate that phrase.  I am not a nice girl.  A kind person?  Maybe.  But nice is such an insipid way to describe a female because it has such a tangled cultural history.  But I digress…)

I’m feeling ready to start my month of vegan eating.  I even told some friends about the project as we were waiting to eat dinner at Genghis Grill, and someone said, “We could probably come here if you’re eating vegan next month.”  And indeed, I bet we could!  Genghis Grill is one of those build-your-own-stir-fry restaurants, much like Mongolian Barbecue.  I had a really delicious bowl of noodles with tofu and tons of vegetables, topped with a DIY sauce combination of red curry peanut and teriyaki.  Yum.  I can’t be certain that it was vegan, but I hope it was.

I have a short to-do list for my month of vegan eating, which I thought I’d share with you.  Who doesn’t love a good list?!

* Buy The Vegan Table by Colleen Patrick-Goudreau.

* Buy a new jar of coconut oil (swoon!).

* Swap out dairy milk in coffee for Silk soymilk, almond milk, or coconut milk.  I may try all three (separately) and report back on the results.

* Take the plunge and try a container of nondairy yogurt.  Wish me luck…

* Buy a jar of Bubbie’s sauerkraut and/or pickles.  A girl needs her probiotics, and fermented vegetables are a vegan win.

* Buy or make some applesauce for vegan baking (and eating—I love applesauce!  And yes, I think I am five years old.  I did get carded at the grocery store last night when I bought a bottle of hard cider.).

Life, Lately: Grant-Writing Edition

Hello, again!

Thank you for all your insightful questions and comments lately.  I’m really enjoying our discussions, and I’ll try to offer my two cents’ worth.  I certainly don’t have all the answers, nor do I even think that there is one right answer to questions about compassion, sustainability, nutrition, and what we put in our mouths.

You know that saying, when it rains, it pours?  That’s how I’m feeling right now at work.  It’s a good thing, this flurry of activity, but it’s also overwhelming.  With my advisor, I’m trying to submit two grants, one under his name and the other a fellowship in my name.  I wasn’t sure that I would be submitting this fellowship application, and for a while it looked like I wouldn’t be.  But to make a long story short, I’m going for it!  The next two weeks are going to be hectic, but it will be worth it.  And hey, it’s only two weeks of upheaval, and after that, I think we’ll be done with grant submission for a while.

So, in the spirit of grant writing and the challenges that it entails, I present you a themed list of random thoughts about surviving the process. 

Life.  It’s so easy to become overwhelmed and burnt out by grant writing.  My advisor and I have been working on ours for three months, and while I would love nothing more than to send it on its way, I’ve managed to preserve my patience and professionalism.  Just like with running, it’s all about pacing yourself.

My main strategy is this: I focus intensely while I am working, then I goof off for a while.  I might goof off by going for a run or bike ride, or by cooking dinner, or by reading something for pleasure.  I might meet friends for happy hour, or I might go for a walk around the neighborhood.  While goofing off, I may think about a particular problem I’m having with the grant, but I might also just think about how nice it feels to be outside, with the sunshine on my back and the birds chirping.

If I’m feeling really toasted on writing, I prefer to cut myself some slack.  I know my working habits quite well, and for me, time away from the writing process is essential for producing quality work.  Everyone works a bit differently, and I think it’s a sign of maturity as a writer or creative person when you learn to respect your own processes.  I try to strike a balance between discipline/deadlines and listening to my brain and body.  If your brain or body are not happy with you, it’s going to be very hard to write something that’s worth reading.   

Love.  I try to make myself as comfortable as possible when I’m writing.  I love listening to Iron & Wine while I’m working, I keep a glass of water close by, and if I’m working at home, I’ll open the window of my study to let in the breeze.  Grant-writing is intellectually demanding, so I try to spoil myself with creature comforts.

Another strategy I use is prioritizing my writing work so that I’m not tired when I sit down to do it.  This means that I hardly ever write in the late evenings; I prefer morning or afternoon for writing so that I can relax (or do easier work) in the evening.  Plus I always feel better once I’ve attended to my grant-related work—it weighs on my mind until it’s done or I’ve exhausted myself.

Food.  It’s important to stay well-fueled and well-hydrated when writing a grant.  Maybe my athletic analogies strike you as funny or hyperbolic, but as a working scientist and a runner, the analogies are convincing to me.  Writing a grant is an endurance task; it can take months of work to craft the final product.  When you’re working on such a long-term project, it’s important to take care of yourself.  This weekend, I made a batch of this stew (an old favorite!) and enjoyed my tea and cookies after lunch.  I also restocked my fresh produce supplies and pondered how to use up that head of cauliflower…a curry perhaps?  Or a cauliflower and soyrizo stew?  These are the things I like to think about when I’m not thinking about specific aims or references or my hill of grant-related paperwork.

I hope your weekend was lovely!  Have a great week, my dears.

Dairy-Free but not Desperate?

If there is one barrier that stands between me and veganism, dairy is thy name.

I know, I know: milk is what mothers make to feed their babies, and what kind of adult animal drinks milk?  Well, cats will drink milk if you offer it to them.  I suppose that aligns human adults a tiny bit more with the obligate carnivores.  For better or worse, I love dairy and wish the production of milk for human consumption were less riddled with cruelty.

Three aspects of milk production are particularly awful to me: the idea of turning an animal into a milk machine (i.e., dairy cows), taking newborn babies from their mothers, and sending babies off to slaughter to become veal.  I feel ashamed that even though I’ve been a vegetarian for over ten years, I never made the connection between the veal industry and the dairy industry.   It’s hard to argue against the systematic relationship: milk production requires pregnancy, pregnancy produces a baby, and something must be done with all those babies!  It’s not uncommon for a mother cow to nurse her newborn calf for only a day or two before the calf is taken away, and the mama cow’s milk, instead of feeding her baby, is pumped out of her for human consumption.

It’s not hard to imagine how emotionally devastating it must be for dairy cows to lose their calves over and over again.  I believe that animals have emotions, and a mother’s desire to nurse, protect, and teach her baby is probably hardwired into mammalian brains.  I’ve always thought that the idea of eating veal is repulsive and cruel, but why did I never make the connection between dairy and veal?  My guiding vegetarian philosophy is a no-kill ideal: I eat animal products that don’t require the death of the animal.  I was fine with eating eggs and dairy (you need live chickens and cows for these things!), but I didn’t eat meat, animal-based broths, or gelatin.  And if on the rare occasion I did decide to consume one of those things, I wanted to know what I was consuming.  I never wanted to fall into a “don’t ask, don’t tell” pattern of ignorance because I needed to feel like I was making an informed choice.

All of this is to say that even though I love dairy, I am deeply troubled by the cruelty of dairy production.  I’m not sure that I’ll ever give up dairy completely, but perhaps I will eat less of it, which is better than nothing, I suppose.

Here’s my plan of attack for living without dairy for the month of April.

* Milk.  I’m already an enthusiastic consumer of non-dairy milks.  I like soy, almond, and coconut milk, and I’m getting ready to live without dairy milk in my coffee, thanks to Kate’s suggestion to try the full-calorie Silk soymilk (thanks, Kate!).

* Butter.  Two words: Earth Balance.

* Cheese.  Oh, boy.  I love cheese in its many tangy, creamy, stinky, funky varieties.  But I’m going to experiment with homemade nut cheeses, avocadoes, and tofu as cheese alternatives.

* Yogurt.  This one’s tough.  I’ve never tried any of the nondairy yogurts that are on the market; JD tells me that coconut milk yogurt is amazing.  I think I’ve seen it at the natural foods store, so I may give that a whirl.  I know that there are soy and almond milk yogurts too.  Are they any good, dear readers?  Do you have any specific brand or flavor recommendations?

* Buttermilk.  This one’s easy.  Buttermilk shows up a lot in baking and pancake recipes.  To make a vegan buttermilk, all the recommendations I’ve seen suggest adding a sour liquid (such as lemon juice or vinegar) to a nondairy milk and letting it sit for 15 minutes or so.  I think the ratios can vary, but in The Cornbread Gospels, Crescent Dragonwagon recommends 1 tablespoon of lemon juice mixed with enough plain soymilk to equal 1 cup.  Stir with a fork a few times, and you’re good to go.

So I’m taking a few deep breaths and telling myself that soon I will be dairy-free, but with all the delicious options available, I will not be desperate.  I hope.

On Not Eating Eggs

I have no qualms about admitting that I like eating eggs.  I think they are nutritious, delicious, and incredibly versatile.  From a chemistry standpoint, they’re pretty amazing too, and I love that they are a whole food—a tidy little package of whole food that can be held in the palm of your hand.

And yet.  I know I’m not alone in my horror when I hear about the debeakings of newborn chicks, the crowded cages stuffed so full of chickens that they can barely move, the way that waste from animals in the top cage rows just falls on top of the animals on lower rows.  Of course I’ve read The Omnivore’s Dilemma, and I know that in theory, chickens could be allowed to live differently.  They could be allowed to wander around in the grass, pecking for worms, flapping their wings, enjoying the sunshine on their little feathered bodies.  I know we don’t have to torture chickens in order to eat their eggs (and yes, eat their bodies, though I have no desire to do that).  But when I buy eggs at the store, I buy them on faith.  The carton says things like “free-range,” “cage-free,” “vegetarian-fed,” but who knows if these claims are accurate?  (I’m also not sure about vegetarian-fed hens.  Shouldn’t those hens be eating worms?  Worms are not vegetables.)

I would hope, for the cost of my fancy eggs, that the hens from which these eggs come are being treated well because those eggs are damn expensive, upwards of $5-6 per dozen.  I’m willing to pay that price, but I’d better be getting what I think I’m getting!  And yet, how do I know?  I don’t, and that’s the troubling reality of eating eggs.

I’ve been thinking about how I’m going to live without eggs for a month.  I don’t think it will be too hard.  For example:

* Instead of scrambled eggs, I can make scrambled tofu or a chickpea salad.  I tend to make scrambled eggs when I’m tired and hungry and I’ve worked all day.  So I just need to stock my fridge and pantry with some good ingredients for quick dinners that will fill the scrambled egg niche.

* Instead of eggs in baking, I can use flax eggs, which I love.  I also think I should experiment with some applesauce or “bananasauce” (mashed banana) substitutions.  Easy peasy—just keep applesauce in the cupboard and some frozen bananas in the freezer.  Frozen banana thaws pretty quickly, too, so you can bake more or less on a whim with it, especially if you chop the banana up while it is still frozen.

* I don’t think I have a good substitute for my little baked eggs and egg-based casseroles…suggestions are welcome!  

Vegan Intentions

Dear readers, you know that I have a talent for writing very long blog posts.  I thank you for sticking with me through so many of them!  Some might say that long posts are not the way to catch and keep readers, but I do not have a succinct writing style and I offer no apologies.  I like to meander, to think deeply, to engage myself in a discussion.  This week, however, I have decided to write a few short posts about the month of veganism that I’m about to start.  Today, I’d like to clarify my intentions for April.

I’ve already listed my reasons for this fling with veganism: compassion, finances, and ambition.  To be honest, I’m doing this to see if I can do it.  I don’t know if I can because I really, really love dairy.  Eggs—eh, I think I can live without them for a month.  But giving up dairy is going to be hard, and it’s going to force me to try new things.  Dairy is a daily habit for me: milk in my coffee, yogurt in my oatmeal, cheese and crackers with lunch, cheese in my quesadilla at dinner.  I know that I eat a lot of dairy.  I felt a sense of loss and frustration on Saturday as I stood in front of the refrigerated case of vegan products, trying to decide what to buy.  In the end, I bought more dairy milk and cheese.  After all, it’s not April yet…and I’m still getting used to the idea of no dairy for 30 days.  It’s a weird feeling.

I have no intention to continue a strictly vegan diet after April.  Of course I may change my mind—never say never!—but I am not committing to anything.  I have no desire to eat meat on a regular basis, so I remain devoted to vegetarianism.  But this veganism thing is an experiment, and as with all experiments, I remain open to the data and new possibilities.  Just please don’t remind me that I’m giving up my beloved cheese for a month!

Get Ready for It

I have an announcement to make: for the month of April, I will be challenging myself to eat a vegan diet.  No dairy, no eggs, and of course, no meat.

Why vegan?  I’m already a vegetarian, a long-time vegetarian in fact, over ten years now!  I am comfortable with my vegetarian habits.  I know what I like.  And I’ve finally become more comfortable asking for what I want in all areas of my life, including foodwise.

I have a few reasons for choosing this challenge now, and I’d like to share them with you.

* Compassion.  I am convinced, after listening to almost all of Colleen Patrick-Goudreau’s podcasts, that a vegan diet is the most compassionate choice.  I consider myself an environmental vegetarian, but there has always been an undercurrent of compassion in my decision, which I will talk about in a future post.  Veganism is a manifestation of compassion, a choice to not subject other sentient beings to suffering so that we may eat their bodies, their milk, and their eggs.  I also feel that right now, compassion is on my mind because of Matt.  It makes sense to me that at a time in my life when compassion is perhaps the key to protecting an important friendship from anger and bitterness, I want to engage in a higher level of compassion in my food choices.

* Financial.  I spend a lot of money on high-quality dairy and eggs.  I do my best to buy local, organic products from free-range, grass-fed animals.  I spend at least $35 a month on dairy alone, just for me!  Don’t get me wrong: the cost is worth it because I love dairy and dairy loves me.  But I am very curious to see if my budget will see the effect of eating vegan for a month.  I look at this as an experiment.  At the end of April, I plan to write a little summary about how April’s grocery bills compared to the average grocery bill for 2012 thus far.

* Ambition.  Spring is the time of blog projects for me.  Last year I did a 40-day yoga challenge on Feels Like Flying, and on this blog, I did a vegetarian challenge, which ended abruptly because I was traumatized by job stuff.  I have learned that blogging every day is too much for me, so for my vegan challenge, I’m going to try to post twice a week (Wednesdays and Sundays, perhaps?) to share my food, cooking, ingredients, struggles, and joys.

I am excited about this project!  Vegetarianism is a topic that is close to my heart, and I have a lot more to say about it in this space.  I am getting ready for the challenge, both mentally and in my kitchen.  I thank you in advance for indulging me with my blog projects.

Happy cooking! 

Life, Lately

I feel like my posts have been really disjointed lately, perhaps because I am feeling disjointed.  When I start feeling freaked out, I say to myself dramatically, “My life is unraveling!”  Job, romance—neither feels stable to me right now.  Then I think back to my word for this year, devotion, and it’s enough to keep me from losing it.  Devotion, faith, perseverance: these are the ways in which we build a life worth living.

In the spirit of order and updates and tranquility, here’s what I’ve been doing lately.

Life. Things are going well for me these days, with one rather large and obvious exception.  Yes, the future is uncertain, but I feel sure that I am doing the right things.  I had a great week at work: I finished the latest set of revisions on the grant, and I read and reviewed a manuscript that my advisor has been asked to review.  I love reading unpublished work—it’s so much more exciting to me than reading published papers!  And I love editorial and reviewing work.  This week I worried that I had bitten off more than I could chew, as I was feeling swamped by the grant and experimental work, but the pressure was exactly what I needed: everything got done, and I’m ending the week on a calm note.

I also filled out a silly bracket for March Madness.  I call it The Cat’s Meow, and it’s a funny idea that a professor in my department shared with us.  The strategy is simple: animals beat non-animals, and cats beat non-cats.  So, for example, I was forced to choose the UNC-Asheville bulldogs over the Syracuse orangemen (which I lost, of course, because a 16-seed has never once beaten a 1-seed), but I also chose the Cincinnati bearcats over the Texas longhorns.  Cincinnati won, though I feel guilty not choosing Texas (indirect loyalty, you know—Texas is Texas A & M’s sister university).

Anyway, I have no real interest in college basketball, and the randomness of my bracket picks makes me laugh.  So we’ll see how well The Cat’s Meow does this year! 

Love.  Oh, dear.  It’s so hard to be calm right now.  I have no news about Matt. Whatever he is going through, it is going to take time to resolve.  I feel utterly unprepared to handle this situation, so I am falling back on my decision to do nothing.  Nothing drastic, that is. 

I keep thinking about labels and the role that labels play in relationships.  Labels explain our relationships to the external world, to some degree, but they also explain our relationships to ourselves.  And I feel lost without a label that feels right to me.  My favorite label for Matt is companion—he is my companion.  Companion feels soft and comfortable to me, warm and not overtly sexual the way that “lover” is.  I also like “special gentleman.”  He will always be special to me.

I’m not sure what I would call him right now, as I feel that our relationship has shifted.  I hope he will be my companion again, in the future, as it makes me terribly sad to think otherwise.  He would probably call us friends, as friendship has always been the foundation of our relationship.  For now, I will be whatever he wants me to be.  For love, I will become a shape-shifter.

Food.  I’m nursing my broken heart with food, of course.  With coconut milk, to be specific.  Now, I’m not feeling vindictive toward Matt, but he really does not like coconut.  A few weeks ago, when he was visiting me, we were talking about where to go for lunch, and he said, “Anything but Thai.”  And do you know why he said that?  Because Thai food is notorious for its use of coconut milk in all the curries.  Matt and I do not eat Thai food together.

Which is fine with me, but I’ll keep the coconut milk for myself.

I think coconut milk is a wonderful pantry ingredient.  I like its creaminess, of course, but I also like its versatility.  It works well in savory and sweet things, and it always adds an exotic touch.  I’d love to get in the habit of always keeping a can of coconut milk in the cupboard because then I could always whip up Melissa Clark’s delicious coconut hot chocolate.

The recipe comes from In the Kitchen with a Good Appetite, the cookbook that became my cookbook of the year for 2011.  It’s a terrific version of hot chocolate, pleasantly sweet and deeply chocolatey, rich and smooth and delectable.  It’s perfect for dairy-free folks, and I agree with Melissa when she says, “As any Mounds bar lover will attest, coconut is a fantastic match with chocolate.”

Yes indeedy!  This recipe reminds me of my friend Nicole, who shares my love for Mounds bars and is lactose-intolerant.  Nicole, this one’s for us.  Cheers!

Coconut Hot Chocolate

Adapted slightly from In the Kitchen with a Good Appetite by Melissa Clark

Serves 2-3

Just one quick note about the recipe: I didn’t use an entire can of coconut milk.  I had about a cup of canned coconut milk left over from something else, so I used that and added water to get 15 ounces for this recipe.  It worked just fine, as canned coconut milk, even the “lite” stuff, is very rich.  So this recipe would be a good destination for leftover coconut milk.

1/3 cup boiling water

2 tbsp. cocoa powder

1 15-ounce can of coconut milk (see headnote)

1/4 cup brown sugar

Pinch kosher salt

1/4 cup chocolate chips, preferably bittersweet or semisweet

1)  In a small heatproof mug, whisk together the boiling water and cocoa powder until smooth.

2)  In a saucepan, combine the coconut milk, brown sugar, salt, and chocolate chips.  Bring to a simmer, stirring frequently, until the chocolate is melted and everything is smooth and combined.

3)  Stir the cocoa mixture into the coconut milk mixture and serve.  Any leftovers will keep well in the fridge, tightly covered.