Recently, we've been getting questions about our fermented foods that we feature on the menu. I wanted to explain a little of the process that goes towards making these foods, so that everyone has an idea of what it is you're eating, and how to make some of your own!
Kimchi. We used to order sauerkraut from the same people who supplied our pickles. They make excellent food, but it bothered me that we weren't making our own fermented cabbage when it's so easy and delicious when it's made in house. I can add a lot more flavour, and control exactly what goes into the dish, and I can control the quality of the ingredients to ensure that only the best of the best ends up in the final dish.
Kimchi is made from napa cabbage, daikon radish, scallions, ginger, garlic (a lot of garlic, actually), a bit of sugar (to get the cultures started), and salt. It's left to ferment for three days to get the initial juices going for the cabbage and daikon, and then it's aged for two weeks or so to mellow out some of the harsher flavours. By the time it's ready to use, the kimchi has become sour, and has all the flavour of the ginger and garlic infused through it.
We don't add any soy sauce or anything that's got an oceany taste (like nori, or kombu), or any hot pepper flakes, because we want the cabbage taste to come through. It tastes like a sauerkraut with a more rounded flavour. I'm glad that we switched to making our own kimchi, because it ensures that I know exactly what's going into it, and can make sure that it works well with the other ingredients in the dish it's served in (the Tempeh Rueben, to be specific).
Cashew Kefir (kee-fur). Kefir is yoghurt product. It's used in Eastern Europe and Russia. We make our kefir with rejuvelac, which is a fermented grain beverage. Rice or quinoa (or both) are soaked overnight. The water is discarded, and fresh water is added to the grains. They are left to ferment for three days to get the wild yeasts and bacteria going. That liquid is poured off, and used to soak the raw cashews. The cashews soak overnight in the rejuvelac, and are pureed the next morning in the blender. That is then left to ferment for another three days to really get properly sour.
The cashew kefir is the base for the cashew sour cream. More cashews are added to the liquidy cashew kefir, and blended together. That is then allowed to ferment for three more days, so that it gets thickened and tangy.
The instructions for making rejuvelac and a host of vegan dairy products (cheese, yoghurt, sour cream, cream cheese) can be found in Miyoko Schinner's book Artisan Vegan Cheese. It's filled with interesting and different cheeses, using techniques that dairy cheese makers use, but adapted to vegan ingredients and needs.
4/3/13
Customer Service: How to do it right.
Boss-man bought some crocs. He went onto their website, and picked out a pair for himself, and for his son. His fit perfectly, and he had no problem with them. His son's were too tight. We wanted to exchange them for a slightly larger size. The options are as follows:
- Go into a physical store, and return them, with your Internet receipt. They'll sell you a new pair. Now, seeing as how we bought the shoes online, there is a reason that we didn't go into a physical store: we lack time, or the inclination to schlep across town in a busy section of the city, which is perpetually crowded with crazy people looking to spend their money. We want the experience of shopping from home, getting our stuff, and moving on with life.
- Contact a customer service rep, who will create a return shipping label for you. This part was very easy, because they have an online chat function, meaning that I don't have to sit on the phone on hold, and listen to musak. Good deal. There is no option to just exchange the shoes for a bigger size. Whatever. We chose this option.
The issue with the second option, is that Crocs won't pay for return shipping. So now, we need to package the shoes into a bag, slap on the mailing label, go to the post office, and pay for shipping. Then, crocs issues you a coupon to use on your next order, so that you can get free shipping on your next pair. Essentially, this took entirely too much time and effort to fix a problem. It also means that we won't be buying from /their/ website, when so many others have much better policies.
Enter Zappos. I've shopped with them before, and trust them. When I had to buy a new pair of sneakers, I went through Zappos. Why? They offer free shipping to you AND back to them. When a pair of shoes doesn't fit right, you return them with a pre-paid mailing label. Then, you get an email saying, "We're so sorry that the shoes didn't fit right. To make up for your trouble, here have a free overnight shipping on your next order." Not only did they pay for me to get the shoes in the first place, they also paid for me to return them when they didn't fit right. Then, they rushed to make it even faster to get my next pair of shoes. At the time that I bought those shoes, I didn't have a lot of money to spend, so I could only afford to buy one pair of shoes at a time. This meant that I had to order a pair, try them on, and then send it back if it didn't fit well.
It took three tries, but Zappos was very good every single time I ordered.
Mind you, it's not a huge thing. Shipping a pair of crocs that you shove into a bag is not that expensive. However, I now have a bad feeling towards the crocs website, because they're making me go through more work than was necessary. Zappos, even though it did take a few tries, will have my business, because they made every step of the process very easy on me. So now, I asked Bossman to return the shoes, and just buy the next pair from Zappos, and move on with life. Congratulations, Zappos: you've got a new customer on board.
- Go into a physical store, and return them, with your Internet receipt. They'll sell you a new pair. Now, seeing as how we bought the shoes online, there is a reason that we didn't go into a physical store: we lack time, or the inclination to schlep across town in a busy section of the city, which is perpetually crowded with crazy people looking to spend their money. We want the experience of shopping from home, getting our stuff, and moving on with life.
- Contact a customer service rep, who will create a return shipping label for you. This part was very easy, because they have an online chat function, meaning that I don't have to sit on the phone on hold, and listen to musak. Good deal. There is no option to just exchange the shoes for a bigger size. Whatever. We chose this option.
The issue with the second option, is that Crocs won't pay for return shipping. So now, we need to package the shoes into a bag, slap on the mailing label, go to the post office, and pay for shipping. Then, crocs issues you a coupon to use on your next order, so that you can get free shipping on your next pair. Essentially, this took entirely too much time and effort to fix a problem. It also means that we won't be buying from /their/ website, when so many others have much better policies.
Enter Zappos. I've shopped with them before, and trust them. When I had to buy a new pair of sneakers, I went through Zappos. Why? They offer free shipping to you AND back to them. When a pair of shoes doesn't fit right, you return them with a pre-paid mailing label. Then, you get an email saying, "We're so sorry that the shoes didn't fit right. To make up for your trouble, here have a free overnight shipping on your next order." Not only did they pay for me to get the shoes in the first place, they also paid for me to return them when they didn't fit right. Then, they rushed to make it even faster to get my next pair of shoes. At the time that I bought those shoes, I didn't have a lot of money to spend, so I could only afford to buy one pair of shoes at a time. This meant that I had to order a pair, try them on, and then send it back if it didn't fit well.
It took three tries, but Zappos was very good every single time I ordered.
Mind you, it's not a huge thing. Shipping a pair of crocs that you shove into a bag is not that expensive. However, I now have a bad feeling towards the crocs website, because they're making me go through more work than was necessary. Zappos, even though it did take a few tries, will have my business, because they made every step of the process very easy on me. So now, I asked Bossman to return the shoes, and just buy the next pair from Zappos, and move on with life. Congratulations, Zappos: you've got a new customer on board.
3/6/13
You've got a friend in me.
When I was a kid, I loved to read. It helped me to escape from the loneliness of being the only Indian kid in a sea of more assimilated Americans. It wasn't just the fact that I was Indian that was the issue, but also the fact that I was shy and awkward. I loved being with people. Whenever my parents would take me out with them, I'd have lots of playmates (if there were children around), or conversations (if it was just adults). I could carry on about pretty much anything, from religion to science, because I really did enjoy watching documentaries, and asking questions.
So to go to school, and be more or less ignored by everyone was difficult to cope with. I liked being around people, but it's hard to fit in when your clothes are third-hand (first someone would give the clothes to my dad, who'd wear them out, then pass it on to my eldest brother, who'd pass it on to my second eldest brother, who'd pass it on to me). They were clean, and in good repair, but never of the name brands, and never a good fit. I didn't exactly have a choice of dressing fashionably. You wore what you got, and once in a while, mum would take us to garage sales, and let us get "new" clothes from there that were more our style, as long as they cost less than $1 a garment.
Suffice it to say that I hated going to school when it involved group projects, or interacting with the other children, but loved going when it involved learning new things. I would take my textbooks home at the beginning of the semester, engrossed in all the new knowledge that they were just giving away for free without charging me anything. By the time I'd come to class the next day, I'd have already finished that chapter ages ago. This didn't endear me to my classmates. (Although all my teachers loved me.)
Over time, I began to withdraw further and further into myself. I'd bring a book with me no matter where I went, even if I knew there were going to be other children around to play with. By the time I hit 8th grade, I was starting to find myself attracted to other boys, which made me withdraw even deeper into myself, because what if someone found out this terrible secret? The worst of it was that I wasn't fooling anyone. I'm so gay that you can spot it from outer space. Either way, it made me even more lonely and isolated.
By the time I hit high school, I was paranoid, and withdrawn, and only willing to talk with or hang out with a couple of people. For a natural extravert, this is torture. Being forced into seclusion is not pleasant for someone who draws energy from being around people. I found the drama club, and found other people as lonely as I was. Other people who could escape for a while into stories, and instead of just reading it to themselves, sharing those stories on the stage. It was a heady feeling.
However, as someone for whom friends are a novelty, it was difficult for me to maintain friendships, because I didn't really understand the protocols. I wasn't really good at knowing how much to share of myself, and how much of my talents to give away selflessly. It took until senior year of high school for me to perfect my public face, and keep my inner self sheltered carefully.
In college, I became acquainted with a whole different group of people. Unlike the ones in high school, all the students really wanted to be there (as tuition was really high, which meant that you'd only attend if you could finagle the finances). It was nice to be around other science nerds, who didn't care about your sexuality, but more so about your ability to absorb the information and build upon it. After I graduated, I'd built up a tight-knit circle of friends whom I'd regularly hang out with. It was a completely different feeling. I'd still reach for a book as soon as I was on a bus, or lazing about at home. I'd still spend hours in the library, sat in between the shelves, lost in a new book.
And then came the Internet (for me) around 2004. I was online a bit before then, but around 2004 was when I really began to get involved with online forums, and make friends there.
I've come full circle, however. My husband met me online, moved in after we got married, and has been with me since. My other online friends have slowly become in-person friends.
Even so, I still have a bit of insecurity around making new friends. I still have that leftover residue of being the kid that nobody wanted to talk to, or be around. I love being around people, and have a fairly wide net of acquaintances that I've met in person and online. I've got a pretty good handle on being able to strike up a conversation with complete strangers, and enjoy myself thoroughly.
It feels weird to know that people want to be my friend; that they want to hang out with me and come to my house. That they want to eat my cooking. That they seek me out.
In other words, if you do seek me out, don't be surprised if I immediately respond. I don't like to play games, and keep the other person waiting. If you want to make an overture, I'll most likely return it immediately.
But if you don't, and you prefer to keep your distance, don't worry. I've still got my books.
So to go to school, and be more or less ignored by everyone was difficult to cope with. I liked being around people, but it's hard to fit in when your clothes are third-hand (first someone would give the clothes to my dad, who'd wear them out, then pass it on to my eldest brother, who'd pass it on to my second eldest brother, who'd pass it on to me). They were clean, and in good repair, but never of the name brands, and never a good fit. I didn't exactly have a choice of dressing fashionably. You wore what you got, and once in a while, mum would take us to garage sales, and let us get "new" clothes from there that were more our style, as long as they cost less than $1 a garment.
Suffice it to say that I hated going to school when it involved group projects, or interacting with the other children, but loved going when it involved learning new things. I would take my textbooks home at the beginning of the semester, engrossed in all the new knowledge that they were just giving away for free without charging me anything. By the time I'd come to class the next day, I'd have already finished that chapter ages ago. This didn't endear me to my classmates. (Although all my teachers loved me.)
Over time, I began to withdraw further and further into myself. I'd bring a book with me no matter where I went, even if I knew there were going to be other children around to play with. By the time I hit 8th grade, I was starting to find myself attracted to other boys, which made me withdraw even deeper into myself, because what if someone found out this terrible secret? The worst of it was that I wasn't fooling anyone. I'm so gay that you can spot it from outer space. Either way, it made me even more lonely and isolated.
By the time I hit high school, I was paranoid, and withdrawn, and only willing to talk with or hang out with a couple of people. For a natural extravert, this is torture. Being forced into seclusion is not pleasant for someone who draws energy from being around people. I found the drama club, and found other people as lonely as I was. Other people who could escape for a while into stories, and instead of just reading it to themselves, sharing those stories on the stage. It was a heady feeling.
However, as someone for whom friends are a novelty, it was difficult for me to maintain friendships, because I didn't really understand the protocols. I wasn't really good at knowing how much to share of myself, and how much of my talents to give away selflessly. It took until senior year of high school for me to perfect my public face, and keep my inner self sheltered carefully.
In college, I became acquainted with a whole different group of people. Unlike the ones in high school, all the students really wanted to be there (as tuition was really high, which meant that you'd only attend if you could finagle the finances). It was nice to be around other science nerds, who didn't care about your sexuality, but more so about your ability to absorb the information and build upon it. After I graduated, I'd built up a tight-knit circle of friends whom I'd regularly hang out with. It was a completely different feeling. I'd still reach for a book as soon as I was on a bus, or lazing about at home. I'd still spend hours in the library, sat in between the shelves, lost in a new book.
And then came the Internet (for me) around 2004. I was online a bit before then, but around 2004 was when I really began to get involved with online forums, and make friends there.
I've come full circle, however. My husband met me online, moved in after we got married, and has been with me since. My other online friends have slowly become in-person friends.
Even so, I still have a bit of insecurity around making new friends. I still have that leftover residue of being the kid that nobody wanted to talk to, or be around. I love being around people, and have a fairly wide net of acquaintances that I've met in person and online. I've got a pretty good handle on being able to strike up a conversation with complete strangers, and enjoy myself thoroughly.
It feels weird to know that people want to be my friend; that they want to hang out with me and come to my house. That they want to eat my cooking. That they seek me out.
In other words, if you do seek me out, don't be surprised if I immediately respond. I don't like to play games, and keep the other person waiting. If you want to make an overture, I'll most likely return it immediately.
But if you don't, and you prefer to keep your distance, don't worry. I've still got my books.
1/1/13
Old friends
Old friends
Sat on their park bench like bookends
Man, that song gets me all choked up every time I hear it. I remember all the friends I've left behind, the friends I've lost track of, the friends whom I'll never forget even though they're not alive anymore. I think of the friends that I hope will be my own old friends, the friends who are old friends already.
Just wanted to take a moment to remember and think about all those people who have touched my life in the past, and thank them for it.
Happy new year.
12/24/12
"Perfect" Holidays
I hear it frequently, but I think it bears repeating: the perfect holiday is one where you reflect on the things you're thankful for, and take time to love yourself. Family is wonderful, friends are great, lovers are important, but you come before all of them. Your own well-being should be your biggest concern.
When you find yourself getting stressed, angry, frustrated, or annoyed in general about having to get something done (whether it be the drive to a loved one's house, the wrapping of the gifts, the cooking of the meal, the waiting on the delivery), just stop. Stop, and breathe. Breathe, and find one thing that you're thankful for. Then, thank the universe for it. Breathe again. Breathe some more. Find your grounding, find your centre, find your peace, and connect to it.
Breathe.
Why are you doing all these things? Because there is someone in your life who loves you, whom you love back. What is the purpose of going through any of the effort that you're going through? To show your love. To show your respect, your kindness, your thoughtfulness. To show your gratitude.
Nobody (who truly matters) is keeping score (hopefully; if anyone is, that person isn't worth your time). Yes, the slow traffic is frustrating. But think of what's waiting at the other end: people who will be happy to see you. Yes, the meal is hard work to cook. But think of what happens when it's cooked: delicious food is ready, to be shared with people you care about. Yes, it sucks when the food goes wrong. But think of what you have when that happens: a funny story to share with your friends, and then Chinese food afterwards. Yes, the other humans at the store are crazy. But you don't have to be. Breathe.
It will be OK, no matter how it turns out, how late you are, how little you have to spend. It's OK. You are loved. You are cherished by someone, even if it's yourself.
You are you.
When you find yourself getting stressed, angry, frustrated, or annoyed in general about having to get something done (whether it be the drive to a loved one's house, the wrapping of the gifts, the cooking of the meal, the waiting on the delivery), just stop. Stop, and breathe. Breathe, and find one thing that you're thankful for. Then, thank the universe for it. Breathe again. Breathe some more. Find your grounding, find your centre, find your peace, and connect to it.
Breathe.
Why are you doing all these things? Because there is someone in your life who loves you, whom you love back. What is the purpose of going through any of the effort that you're going through? To show your love. To show your respect, your kindness, your thoughtfulness. To show your gratitude.
Nobody (who truly matters) is keeping score (hopefully; if anyone is, that person isn't worth your time). Yes, the slow traffic is frustrating. But think of what's waiting at the other end: people who will be happy to see you. Yes, the meal is hard work to cook. But think of what happens when it's cooked: delicious food is ready, to be shared with people you care about. Yes, it sucks when the food goes wrong. But think of what you have when that happens: a funny story to share with your friends, and then Chinese food afterwards. Yes, the other humans at the store are crazy. But you don't have to be. Breathe.
It will be OK, no matter how it turns out, how late you are, how little you have to spend. It's OK. You are loved. You are cherished by someone, even if it's yourself.
You are you.
12/19/12
Rituals
So this morning, the AM cook asked me if I'd like a cup of coffee. He'd just made himself one, and was offering me one. He's a nice enough guy, but tends to be reserved, which is why I'm always encouraging when he reaches out to me. When he recognises something I'm cooking, he'll grin, and name it (he used to work at an Indian restaurant). I'll smile back in pleasant surprise, and confirm. When he enjoys something I've made, he's usually quick to tell me. But aside from those few interactions, he tends to keep (mostly) to himself.
That's fine, though, because he's always friendly, and professional at work. That's really all I can ask from someone.
Anyway. Anyone who's known me for a while knows that caffeine hits me hard. If I have any in the morning, I'll be up all night. This goes so far as to give me issues with soda, green tea, black tea, coffee, or anything else containing caffeine. I knew that the coffee would likely have me wired all day. However, here he was, reaching out to me. I didn't want to refuse. As I sit here, sipping this wonderful tasting latte he made me, I started thinking about how we all use food as a way to connect with each other. How rituals like the morning coffee ritual at work tends to bring people together, even if they're not necessarily having a long conversation over said coffee.
Think about it. What do most people remember about their favourite holidays, aside from the enjoyable times that they have with their family? The festive meal. This goes double for any religion (like Judaism or Hinduism) that has prescribed dishes for said festive meal. On Pesach, you eat those bitter herbs, that horseradish stuff, the fruit & date mixture, the matza. On Thai Pongal (a Tamil harvest festival), you eat bowls of sweet or savoury pongal (lentils and rice dish, also called kichadi in the North). These foods are woven into the fabric of those holidays, and are important parts of anyone's memories of those holidays. It's a Very Big Deal.
So what do you do when your morals and the specific holiday in question don't quite line up? Do you eat before you leave home, and skulk in a corner with your plate of dry salad? Do you bring something with you? Do you starve? Do you respectfully (and far in advance) ask for something special to be made for you?
I don't know. The answer will vary depending on your situation. Here, however, I'm going to cover a couple of dishes that anyone can sort out, anywhere they live, even if they don't have access to Weird Vegan Ingredients™. Whether you ask someone to make it for you, make it yourself, or make a quick trip to the supermarket on the way there (or once you arrive there), these are all dishes that can be sorted out fairly quickly, with a minimum of fuss.
I encourage you, however, to ask the host if they'd be willing to make you the thing, if you can. Why? Because my coworker this morning got a good feeling by doing something nice for me: making me a cup of coffee. People reach out to each other with gifts of food. Whether that dish is complicated like a tofu lasagna, or simple, like a cup of coffee with some soymilk in, it's the gesture that matters, not the specific food. Either way, I hope you get some ideas on how to figure out what to eat when you're in non-vegan territory.
Roasted Potatoes For as much as I adore green vegetables, roasted potatoes have a sweet spot in my heart. They're so delicious, and easy to sort out, no matter where you are. Depending on the neighbourhood you're in, you may or may not be able to find all different kinds of potatoes. My favourites are the fingerling potatoes, and the baby red potatoes, but it will work with whatever you have. Toss the potatoes in just enough oil to coat them, and lay them (in a single layer) onto a baking sheet. If you're using a typical baking sheet, you'll need 2 of them for a 5-lb bag. Roast at 350°F for 40 minutes, then remove from the oven. Toss lightly to re-coat in the oil, and crank up the heat to 450°F. Let them roast at the higher heat for another 20 minutes or so.
Pasta with Tomato Sauce: A quick, cheater version of tomato sauce involves getting an onion, a can of crushed tomatoes (use diced or whole if that's all you can find), some olive oil, and some fresh herbs of your choice. Cook the onions in olive oil until they're softened. Add the herbs, and stir around with the onions until you can smell them. I personally like dried oregano, and basil, but you can use whatever you have on hand. Add the can of crushed tomatoes, and cook over high heat until the sauce reaches the thickness you want. For me, it takes about five to seven minutes. You may need more or less time. Then, dump the cooked pasta into the sauce pot, and stir to combine. Let the whole thing come to a boil, and shut off the heat. Sprinkle on a bit more olive oil, some salt and black pepper, and you're set.
QUICK Beans & Rice: There are times when beans and rice just get the job done. If you or the person in question doesn't know how to cook rice, just get some from the local friendly Chinese restaurant. Listen, I know I'm supposed to encourage you to cook, but sometimes, you have to work with what you have. To make really fast beans, you'll need a can of beans, some curry powder, and an onion. Cook the onion in oil, along with 2 tsp of curry powder (for every 1 can of beans, you'll want one large onion, 2 TB of oil, and the 2 tsp of curry powder). When the onions soften, add the can of beans, water and all, and cook on high until the beans come to a boil. Add the rice, stir to combine, and keep cooking on high until it's thickened to your liking. Serve with salsa, guacamole, or any kind of raw vegetables you like (I like sliced cucumbers and carrots). The whole thing takes like ten minutes when you've got the rice cooked already.
Cheater Pilaf: Technically, pilaf should be the best quality spices, along with the best basmati rice you can find, and fresh cut vegetables. And then you realise that you're in a town where the good grocery store has three varieties of potato, five varieties of onion, and a few wilted leaves of something that looks like lettuce, but you don't actually eat it. It's for decoration, apparently. Even the dodgiest grocery store has a bag of mixed frozen vegetables. Every store I've been to has at least a box of rice in there somewhere.
Here's how you do it. Purists will be cringing, but it does taste delicious at the end of it all. Put two cups of rice to cook. In a separate pot, cook 1 large onion, 3 cloves of garlic, and 1/2 tsp of turmeric in 3 TB of whatever oil you have lying around. If you don't have turmeric, use about 2 tsp of curry powder. When the onions and garlic are softened, add 12 - 16 oz of frozen mixed vegetables of your liking. I'm fond of the "california mix" (it has cauliflower, broccoli, and peppers or something of that sort). Sautee the vegetables until they're not frozen anymore. Season with salt, red pepper flakes, and black pepper. Keep cooking until the vegetables are cooked. When the rice is cooked, toss it through the cooked vegetables, and serve.
If you can get access to couscous, millet, or quinoa, this works equally well with them.
Aside from the usual suspects of hummus and pita (or sliced carrots, if you're gluten free), salsa/guac and tortilla chips, white beans & rosemary dip with crostini, bruschetta, or any other number of easily vegan dishes, these are just some ideas to get you thinking about vegan food in terms that even the most basic cook can master. Mind you, if the person who's cooking is more creative, please go for the best you can find by all means.
That's fine, though, because he's always friendly, and professional at work. That's really all I can ask from someone.
Anyway. Anyone who's known me for a while knows that caffeine hits me hard. If I have any in the morning, I'll be up all night. This goes so far as to give me issues with soda, green tea, black tea, coffee, or anything else containing caffeine. I knew that the coffee would likely have me wired all day. However, here he was, reaching out to me. I didn't want to refuse. As I sit here, sipping this wonderful tasting latte he made me, I started thinking about how we all use food as a way to connect with each other. How rituals like the morning coffee ritual at work tends to bring people together, even if they're not necessarily having a long conversation over said coffee.
Think about it. What do most people remember about their favourite holidays, aside from the enjoyable times that they have with their family? The festive meal. This goes double for any religion (like Judaism or Hinduism) that has prescribed dishes for said festive meal. On Pesach, you eat those bitter herbs, that horseradish stuff, the fruit & date mixture, the matza. On Thai Pongal (a Tamil harvest festival), you eat bowls of sweet or savoury pongal (lentils and rice dish, also called kichadi in the North). These foods are woven into the fabric of those holidays, and are important parts of anyone's memories of those holidays. It's a Very Big Deal.
So what do you do when your morals and the specific holiday in question don't quite line up? Do you eat before you leave home, and skulk in a corner with your plate of dry salad? Do you bring something with you? Do you starve? Do you respectfully (and far in advance) ask for something special to be made for you?
I don't know. The answer will vary depending on your situation. Here, however, I'm going to cover a couple of dishes that anyone can sort out, anywhere they live, even if they don't have access to Weird Vegan Ingredients™. Whether you ask someone to make it for you, make it yourself, or make a quick trip to the supermarket on the way there (or once you arrive there), these are all dishes that can be sorted out fairly quickly, with a minimum of fuss.
I encourage you, however, to ask the host if they'd be willing to make you the thing, if you can. Why? Because my coworker this morning got a good feeling by doing something nice for me: making me a cup of coffee. People reach out to each other with gifts of food. Whether that dish is complicated like a tofu lasagna, or simple, like a cup of coffee with some soymilk in, it's the gesture that matters, not the specific food. Either way, I hope you get some ideas on how to figure out what to eat when you're in non-vegan territory.
Roasted Potatoes For as much as I adore green vegetables, roasted potatoes have a sweet spot in my heart. They're so delicious, and easy to sort out, no matter where you are. Depending on the neighbourhood you're in, you may or may not be able to find all different kinds of potatoes. My favourites are the fingerling potatoes, and the baby red potatoes, but it will work with whatever you have. Toss the potatoes in just enough oil to coat them, and lay them (in a single layer) onto a baking sheet. If you're using a typical baking sheet, you'll need 2 of them for a 5-lb bag. Roast at 350°F for 40 minutes, then remove from the oven. Toss lightly to re-coat in the oil, and crank up the heat to 450°F. Let them roast at the higher heat for another 20 minutes or so.
Pasta with Tomato Sauce: A quick, cheater version of tomato sauce involves getting an onion, a can of crushed tomatoes (use diced or whole if that's all you can find), some olive oil, and some fresh herbs of your choice. Cook the onions in olive oil until they're softened. Add the herbs, and stir around with the onions until you can smell them. I personally like dried oregano, and basil, but you can use whatever you have on hand. Add the can of crushed tomatoes, and cook over high heat until the sauce reaches the thickness you want. For me, it takes about five to seven minutes. You may need more or less time. Then, dump the cooked pasta into the sauce pot, and stir to combine. Let the whole thing come to a boil, and shut off the heat. Sprinkle on a bit more olive oil, some salt and black pepper, and you're set.
QUICK Beans & Rice: There are times when beans and rice just get the job done. If you or the person in question doesn't know how to cook rice, just get some from the local friendly Chinese restaurant. Listen, I know I'm supposed to encourage you to cook, but sometimes, you have to work with what you have. To make really fast beans, you'll need a can of beans, some curry powder, and an onion. Cook the onion in oil, along with 2 tsp of curry powder (for every 1 can of beans, you'll want one large onion, 2 TB of oil, and the 2 tsp of curry powder). When the onions soften, add the can of beans, water and all, and cook on high until the beans come to a boil. Add the rice, stir to combine, and keep cooking on high until it's thickened to your liking. Serve with salsa, guacamole, or any kind of raw vegetables you like (I like sliced cucumbers and carrots). The whole thing takes like ten minutes when you've got the rice cooked already.
Cheater Pilaf: Technically, pilaf should be the best quality spices, along with the best basmati rice you can find, and fresh cut vegetables. And then you realise that you're in a town where the good grocery store has three varieties of potato, five varieties of onion, and a few wilted leaves of something that looks like lettuce, but you don't actually eat it. It's for decoration, apparently. Even the dodgiest grocery store has a bag of mixed frozen vegetables. Every store I've been to has at least a box of rice in there somewhere.
Here's how you do it. Purists will be cringing, but it does taste delicious at the end of it all. Put two cups of rice to cook. In a separate pot, cook 1 large onion, 3 cloves of garlic, and 1/2 tsp of turmeric in 3 TB of whatever oil you have lying around. If you don't have turmeric, use about 2 tsp of curry powder. When the onions and garlic are softened, add 12 - 16 oz of frozen mixed vegetables of your liking. I'm fond of the "california mix" (it has cauliflower, broccoli, and peppers or something of that sort). Sautee the vegetables until they're not frozen anymore. Season with salt, red pepper flakes, and black pepper. Keep cooking until the vegetables are cooked. When the rice is cooked, toss it through the cooked vegetables, and serve.
If you can get access to couscous, millet, or quinoa, this works equally well with them.
Aside from the usual suspects of hummus and pita (or sliced carrots, if you're gluten free), salsa/guac and tortilla chips, white beans & rosemary dip with crostini, bruschetta, or any other number of easily vegan dishes, these are just some ideas to get you thinking about vegan food in terms that even the most basic cook can master. Mind you, if the person who's cooking is more creative, please go for the best you can find by all means.
11/16/12
Top 5 Tips for Vegan Thanksgiving Bliss
Even if you won't be joining us here at
Chow for your Thanksgiving meal, we still want you to have a delicious holiday.
Regardless of how big your crowd is, we have noticed a couple of things that
help things go smoothly. Hopefully, they will be of help to you too.
1) Do not try something new for the first
time when you have company coming. With dishes that you cook infrequently, you
have less confidence in the final product. You haven't seen how the food will
react to your situation, to your skills, and to your kitchen. Something that
worked great in my kitchen may not work so great in yours if you've never made
it before. This is why whenever I am about to try a new recipe for a big day,
I'll make a small test batch first to see how the mechanics of the recipe work.
This way, if things go belly-up, I'll not have wasted too many ingredients.
Furthermore, with my smaller batch, I can make tweaks without using up huge
amounts of ingredients.
What am I talking about? Imagine that you
have about a cup or so of a gravy. You made it because the recipe looked good.
Now imagine that you did like I said, and decided to make only about half that
amount, because you're not sure how the recipe will work. You half all the
ingredients, and measure them out ahead of time. You survey all your
ingredients in front of you, and they look to be reasonable for what you're
making. (Yesterday, Bossman came up to me and said, "I'm making a single
cheesecake. 2 TB of salt doesn't seem right, does it?" I agreed with his
assessment. It turns out that the TB was a typo. In other words, look at each
ingredient in the context of the whole recipe and ask yourself if such an
amount makes sense for what you're making.)
You go to make the recipe exactly as
stated. Midway through, you realise that the recipe never mentioned that you're
to turn down the heat. You didn't think to do so, because you're following the
damned recipe. All of a sudden, your gravy gets burned, and you're furious.
Since it is a tiny amount, you're not that bothered. You can try again, and
this time, turn down the heat a bit. Suppose that you did make the gravy, and
it turned out great. You taste it. SALT BOMB. You're gasping for water, and the
thing tastes just awful. Now imagine what would happen if this is a random
mid-week meal. You quietly bin the gravy, and decide to have that dinner with
ketchup instead. Again. (Yes, this is personal experience talking.) Imagine the
same scenario if you've got guests coming in less than 20 minutes. They won't
be as forgiving as your husband, or your dog.
Suppose you make everything as stated, but
the end result seems really bland. This frequently happens with pressure cooker
or slow cooker recipes. The extreme cooking seems to dull out the flavours.
Again, suppose you only have a small batch to fix. A few drops of lemon will
brighten any dull tasting dish. A fresh bunch of herbs will do the same.
Sometimes it'll take a combination of the two. Either way, if you're dealing
with large quantities, you may not have all the ingredients you need to fix the
mistake. In small quantities, the small amounts of ingredients you add to tweak
something will make a huge difference. All this leads to the second tenet.
2) When you change a recipe, make a note of
it. In fact, make frequent notes. Why? Because if it took a few things to tweak
a recipe that was otherwise great, you'll want to remember what it is you did
to make it work. If you make something truly great, you'll want to recreate it.
A piece of paper and a sharpie will work wonders for you.
3) Do as much preparation work ahead of
time as is feasible. Or cheat. We're all busy. We have a thousand things to get
done in an average day. And I'm sorry, but that cute kitty video isn't going to
watch itself. For whatever reason, there will be times when you have time
consuming prep work (peeling onions or garlic, chopping root veggies, chopping
potatoes, etc) that you'll put off until the last minute. Then the day of
comes, and you're about to wind up serving everyone a pizza. Don't do this.
If you go to many Supermarkets now, you'll
see pre-diced vegetables of every shape and size. I want you to go to that
store, look at what they're charging for those things, and then resolve to do
it yourself. If you're a wealthy type, who's getting paid enough at work that
your time is worth more than the cost difference of buying pre-prepped versus
whole vegetables, go ahead and buy the jars. Either way, figure out what you've
got more of, be it time or money, and reach a compromise.
If the time is what you have plenty of, go
ahead and set aside about four days before the major event to do the boring
prep. Peel and chop your onions. Peel your garlic. Dice the carrots and celery.
All these can be done up to four days in advance with no problems. Three days
ahead, go ahead and slice or chop the garlic. Dice your potatoes or other root
veggies, and leave them to sit in cold water. Soak your beans and brown rice
(brown rice cooks much more quickly when soaked ahead of time). Two days ahead
of time, drain the soaked beans, and boil them. Cook your root veggies and/or
potatoes. They take a long time to cook, so it's great if you can have them
pre-cooked. Wash and chop your dark leafy greens. Wash and chop your
cauliflower/broccoli. Drain the brown
rice, and let it sit in the fridge. On the day of, bring all the magic
together.
All these little tasks, when taken
separately, take no more than 30 - 45 minutes or so to do at the very most. Then,
on the day of, when all your ingredients are prepared, you can generally knock
out any major cooking in about 1 - 2 hours or so. This also makes it easy for
you to do your dishes as you're working.
If you have more money than time, go ahead
and buy the pre-chopped aromatics (carrots, celery, onions), the pre-peeled
garlic, the frozen chopped kale, the broccoli crowns (some stores even sell
florets all chopped neatly), or whatever other ingredient you don't feel like
prepping. Heck, Trader Joe even sells these cooked lentils in a vacuum pack.
They don't come with all that gooey liquid, so you can totally use them in
salads or purees. They cost more than dried beans, but they're still not
prohibitively expensive.
Or, if you're like most people, find a
happy medium. Do as much prep work as you're comfortable with, and then buy the
rest prepped already.
4) If you have the option, delegate as much
as you can. If you're standing there over a blazing hot stove, and a screaming
hot oven, you're likely going to need some help with the cleanup. Recruit
anyone who's willing to help to start clearing up the prep dishes as you use
them up. Recruit people who are willing, to chop herbs or keep an eye on the
pot. Recruit someone to keep your wineglass replenished. Recruit someone to
taste (and if you're making anything with kale, or anything fried, you'll have
plenty of volunteers). Treat your kitchen helpers to extra little treats.
Anyone who helps me in the kitchen always gets first dibs on the fried food.
Only after we've eaten our fill do we call anyone else in to try some.
5) Taste. Frequently. Why? Because the food
will change as it cooks. And unlike meat foods, which try to kill you back,
there isn't likely to be that much harm in tasting a piece of vegetable halfway
through its cooking process. Taste that soup liquid as it begins to cook, and
then throughout the cooking process. Not only will it alert you to problems as
they occur (such as the soup sticking to the bottom of the pot when you're
using ingredients like split peas), it will also get you used to knowing what
something should taste like at various points during the cooking. This
knowledge will help you to gauge how anything in the pot should taste.
Don't just rely on your own taste either.
Ask for feedback from others who are around while the food cooks. If you get
multiple opinions, you can tweak the food as
necessary. Or, in some cases, you can beam with pride when everyone
raves about how delicious something is, on a one-on-one basis. When someone
piles his or her plate with food, and eats it with great gusto, you don't know
what they love about each and every dish. When they have a little taste of each
thing as it's prepared, you know that they love each thing. OK, so I do enjoy a
little ego boost once in a while.
Most of all, relax. People aren't
necessarily here for your food (although it is a nice bonus). They're here to
see you. The food is secondary. I have had wonderful times with friends when
the food was nothing more than a bowl of nuts, some piping hot mugs of hot
chocolate, and some fine conversation. That fills me up just as much as a fancy
meal in a nice restaurant. If someone takes all that effort to come out and see
you, they'll be happy that you made the effort to bring something nice to the
table, even if it really is delivery or take out from a restaurant. The meal is
the excuse to share the warm feelings and good times.
We love you all, and wish you a happy and
healthy Thanksgiving!
9/13/12
Supply Issues
Whenever possible, we try to support companies that are off the beaten path. Be it our wines, our beers, our sodas, (and as of late) or our soy ice cream. Yes, it would be easy to get the mainstream brands, but those mainstream brands already have plenty of exposure elsewhere, and we'd like to provide our customers with something that they won't be able to get anywhere.
Unfortunately, that means that supplies are sometimes (if not frequently, in one case that will remain unnamed) An Issue. It's not that our wholesaler is out of the product, but rather that the company producing it ran out of stock, and isn't able to resupply said wholesaler any time soon. So we're in a holding pattern until more stock appears. This is perfectly understandable (in my head, anyway) with produce, because produce has a very fleeting shelf life.
I just wish I would grant the same understanding to the makers of those speciality vegan products. Again, I'm not about to name names, because I do want to support vegan brands, and hope that they all do well. We take pride in buying products from vegan companies whenever possible. It's just frustrating when you want to give those independent companies a shot, and they have Major Supply Issues. Because then our customers are irritated that they can't have ________.
I guess in a way this is why we're so careful to make as much of our products as we can in-house. The major things on the menu depend on raw ingredients that we put together ourselves. If we run out, it is due to the products popularity, and our own ability to keep up with demand. For example, one week, we'll run a soup special, but the weather is hot, so it lasts a few days. All of a sudden, a cold snap hits, and we can't sell the soup fast enough!
I'm guessing that's the same thing that happens with those other vegan companies that produce specific products. Demand spikes are weird and unpredictable. For no reason, we'll get masses of orders for a random thing. And then it will quiet down. It must be even more tough to run a bigger operation, where you have your cost of operation dependent on commodities costs, weather patterns, and other big factors that are way out of your control. For us, a bag of flour costs as much as it always does, and stays more or less consistent. A case of broccoli will fluctuate very slightly, but we don't use so much broccoli that our entire livelihood depends on it. Tempeh, seitan, tofu, beans, nuts, seeds, etc all tend to stay pretty stable on our side.
How terrifying it must be to be (for example) a company that makes beverages from juices (like Maine Root, whom we love) or other raw ingredients, who buy them by the truckload, to have said truckload drastically spike in price, because a nasty rainstorm hit, or there was flooding, or a drought.
What started off as a first world problems type whine has turned into my really having a huge deal of respect for producers of the things we all take for granted. Here's to all the producers of things. Cheers! You're amazing people, and I respect your work.
Unfortunately, that means that supplies are sometimes (if not frequently, in one case that will remain unnamed) An Issue. It's not that our wholesaler is out of the product, but rather that the company producing it ran out of stock, and isn't able to resupply said wholesaler any time soon. So we're in a holding pattern until more stock appears. This is perfectly understandable (in my head, anyway) with produce, because produce has a very fleeting shelf life.
I just wish I would grant the same understanding to the makers of those speciality vegan products. Again, I'm not about to name names, because I do want to support vegan brands, and hope that they all do well. We take pride in buying products from vegan companies whenever possible. It's just frustrating when you want to give those independent companies a shot, and they have Major Supply Issues. Because then our customers are irritated that they can't have ________.
I guess in a way this is why we're so careful to make as much of our products as we can in-house. The major things on the menu depend on raw ingredients that we put together ourselves. If we run out, it is due to the products popularity, and our own ability to keep up with demand. For example, one week, we'll run a soup special, but the weather is hot, so it lasts a few days. All of a sudden, a cold snap hits, and we can't sell the soup fast enough!
I'm guessing that's the same thing that happens with those other vegan companies that produce specific products. Demand spikes are weird and unpredictable. For no reason, we'll get masses of orders for a random thing. And then it will quiet down. It must be even more tough to run a bigger operation, where you have your cost of operation dependent on commodities costs, weather patterns, and other big factors that are way out of your control. For us, a bag of flour costs as much as it always does, and stays more or less consistent. A case of broccoli will fluctuate very slightly, but we don't use so much broccoli that our entire livelihood depends on it. Tempeh, seitan, tofu, beans, nuts, seeds, etc all tend to stay pretty stable on our side.
How terrifying it must be to be (for example) a company that makes beverages from juices (like Maine Root, whom we love) or other raw ingredients, who buy them by the truckload, to have said truckload drastically spike in price, because a nasty rainstorm hit, or there was flooding, or a drought.
What started off as a first world problems type whine has turned into my really having a huge deal of respect for producers of the things we all take for granted. Here's to all the producers of things. Cheers! You're amazing people, and I respect your work.
7/27/12
Learning from others
I had a teacher in 10th grade, who taught English. She was one of my favourite teachers of all times. She not only loved reading, but also writing, and obscure words. She loved going to England every year, and would show us pictures of her travels. She frequently asked us to read, and to encourage it, she would offer extra credit to anyone who chose a book from her personal bookshelf (kept behind her desk), and come back and discuss it with her. The beauty of the deal is that she didn't make more work for herself by having you write a report on it. Instead, it was more like an informal discussion that you'd have with your friend about a book that she enjoyed, and that you enjoyed.
I remember being in her class, and having the infinite pleasure of meeting another book addict. I took her up on her offer. When my 2 books per semester ran out I asked if she didn't mind if I just kept reading, just for the hell of it. She had an extensive collection of Sidney Sheldon, Jeffery Archer, Ken Follet, and a bunch of other contemporary writers. They weren't High Literature, because she knew she was dealing with high school kids. Instead, they were just fun reads.
During this time, when I was enrolled in honours and AP classes, after school activities (AKA, drama club, track, and weekly prayer meetings with my parents), I still managed to read through one novel every day. The best part was her delight in giving me a book, having me read it, and discussing it with her the very next day. It's like instant gratification, because often when I reccommend a book to a friend, it takes them however long to read it, and we don't discuss it until weeks or months later. So to have another book addict to chat with was amazing.
She kept giving me thicker and more complex books. Jeffery Archer's As the Crow Flies, and Ken Follet's Pillars of the Earth were two such examples. I knocked out As the Crow Flies in a day and a half, and Pillars of the Earth in three.
There was this lady, intelligent, talented, and lots of fun to hang out with, teaching a class of honours English to students who frequently didn't appreciate reading. year after year. I remember asking her one day how she could keep up. "Aside from finding other book addicts like you, I find that every year, I learn more from my students."
I was floored. Here was this woman, who was so intelligent and varied in her interests (and books), who said that she was learning from her high school students! Ever since then, I have made it my personal mission to see to it that I strive to learn from everyone I meet, even when it's me who's the teacher in that situation. One of my cooking students, Ari, mentioned that she hates to wrestle with a butternut squash, because she's not got the arm strength for it. So, she just throws the whole thing into the oven like that, and roasts it until it's tender. This is something she taught me after I'd spent day after day in the restaurant kitchen, wrestling enormous piles of butternut squash, and cursing every minute of it (they really are stubborn). Here's someone who was asking me to teach her to cook, teaching me a new technique to use in my own life!
Never discount the lessons that you learn from others. Even those who are younger, or less experienced, or less talented. All of them have something to teach you.
Thank you, Mrs. Deshong. You are a wonderful teacher, and I hope that wherever you are today, you're enjoying a good book.
I remember being in her class, and having the infinite pleasure of meeting another book addict. I took her up on her offer. When my 2 books per semester ran out I asked if she didn't mind if I just kept reading, just for the hell of it. She had an extensive collection of Sidney Sheldon, Jeffery Archer, Ken Follet, and a bunch of other contemporary writers. They weren't High Literature, because she knew she was dealing with high school kids. Instead, they were just fun reads.
During this time, when I was enrolled in honours and AP classes, after school activities (AKA, drama club, track, and weekly prayer meetings with my parents), I still managed to read through one novel every day. The best part was her delight in giving me a book, having me read it, and discussing it with her the very next day. It's like instant gratification, because often when I reccommend a book to a friend, it takes them however long to read it, and we don't discuss it until weeks or months later. So to have another book addict to chat with was amazing.
She kept giving me thicker and more complex books. Jeffery Archer's As the Crow Flies, and Ken Follet's Pillars of the Earth were two such examples. I knocked out As the Crow Flies in a day and a half, and Pillars of the Earth in three.
There was this lady, intelligent, talented, and lots of fun to hang out with, teaching a class of honours English to students who frequently didn't appreciate reading. year after year. I remember asking her one day how she could keep up. "Aside from finding other book addicts like you, I find that every year, I learn more from my students."
I was floored. Here was this woman, who was so intelligent and varied in her interests (and books), who said that she was learning from her high school students! Ever since then, I have made it my personal mission to see to it that I strive to learn from everyone I meet, even when it's me who's the teacher in that situation. One of my cooking students, Ari, mentioned that she hates to wrestle with a butternut squash, because she's not got the arm strength for it. So, she just throws the whole thing into the oven like that, and roasts it until it's tender. This is something she taught me after I'd spent day after day in the restaurant kitchen, wrestling enormous piles of butternut squash, and cursing every minute of it (they really are stubborn). Here's someone who was asking me to teach her to cook, teaching me a new technique to use in my own life!
Never discount the lessons that you learn from others. Even those who are younger, or less experienced, or less talented. All of them have something to teach you.
Thank you, Mrs. Deshong. You are a wonderful teacher, and I hope that wherever you are today, you're enjoying a good book.
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