Activists of the Year acceptance speech...

On Friday, John and I were deeply honored to receive Mercy For Animal's activists of the year award. To receive such an honor from an organization I so very much respect was both humbling and incredibly uplifting. To be able to share this night (and honor) with so many compassionate, beautiful people...well, words fail. It was one of those nights that I'll never forget and I was just floating on the love and good vibes all night. Here was the speech I gave (John was generous enough to let me commandeer the microphone) and, as usual, there's so much more to say than time ever allows. I am so grateful to my community of humane, principled and passionate people. There is so much work to be done and I am honored to be doing it shoulder-to-shoulder with such shining examples of humanity.

When I was a young child, as is probably the case I’m sure with so many people in the room, I couldn’t stop asking my parents for a dog. I think that was my first sentence and it soon became one big run-on sentence from about the age of three on: “Can I have a dog, can I have a dog, can I have a dog…?” I was always very clear that I didn’t want a baby brother or sister: I wanted a dog. As I grew up, first there was Duffy, the beagle, then Buffy, the cocker spaniel: I was really in my “-uffy” stage. I loved my dogs and as I grew up, and, unaware even as it was happening, I was morphing into an herbivore. My sophomore year of high school, I was signing up for a school ski trip and out of nowhere, I checked a box on the form requesting vegetarian meals. I had never thought of it before: I just saw that word with the box next to it and I thought to myself, “Oh, that’s what I want to be. Of course!” I checked the box and I never looked back.

Not surprisingly, this was around the same time I opted out of dissection in my high school biology class. I had no great epiphany: it was just that at fifteen, I started to realize that animals weren’t ours to use as we saw fit.

Maybe it was because I was raised with an awareness of the Holocaust, knowing that so many of my extended family was wiped out in Europe simply because of crazy beliefs, and just as the genocide against the Jewish people made no sense to me, the same was true of misogyny and discrimination against people of color. That same seed of disconnection also germinates our belief that because we can do something, that gives us the right to do it. It only makes sense in an integrated worldview that non-human animals are part of the circle of compassion, and that this is a social justice movement as worthy as any other and perhaps more so because of the numbers and the profound degree of suffering. Using our voices to stand up for animals is deeply worthy of our time and dedication.

John and I are always trying to create something where we see a need. And with creating Chicago VeganMania, we were responding to our city’s need to have its own, unique vegan culture celebration. Our vision was always that we would be defined from within, by the abundant creativity, compassion and progressive, independent spirit woven throughout the Chicago vegan community. Too often, the vegan world is defined and thus viewed by what we don’t do. It’s important that people understand these things, of course, but framing it as such defines veganism by a “lack,” by our opposition to the status quo. We need to own our message and that’s what Chicago Vegan Mania was about. Our dream was always to celebrate and showcase this wonderful community as we are to the rest of Chicago and it was deeply gratifying for all of us to see that vision manifest: not only were there long lines out the door that whole chilly day in October, but people were smiling, they were talking and listening, they were engaged. Our local vegan community put on a great show, truly reflecting the diversity and vitality within. What a trickle-down effect an event like this can have on people’s perceptions.

We want to thank the whole Chicago VeganMania team who made this fanciful dream a reality: Chris Capozziello, Karen Maylone, Jessica Harding, Josh Alper, Meagen and Lauren Hugel, Marci Rubin, Mikael Nielsen, Leanne Hilgart, Paz St. John and Blythe Lopez. It was a pleasure to work with such ego-less, talented and dedicated people. And thank you to all the incredible volunteers who worked tirelessly behind the scenes to make the day a success. And thank you to everyone who promoted this event, who trusted us when we told them that we had this crazy idea for something we wanted to call Chicago VeganMania and who believed us when we said that it was going to have a huge draw. Thank you to my dear friends in the Chicago Vegan Family Network for raising the next generation of compassionate children. Thanks to my son Justice, for letting us schlep him to meeting after meeting. Last, thank you to everyone in this room tonight, to the tremendous Mercy for Animals, for helping to create the sort of world we want to live in, one filled with courage and kindness and critical thinking and integrity and passion.

Thank you.

The Fifth Taste (or Confessions of a Savory Lady)...

I think that I’m not unique in the fact that I have had some mighty food obsessions in my lifetime. I don’t mean the sort of psychologically damaging ones – though I think I’ve had my share of those, too – but rather the kind where you can’t stop thinking about how much you love a certain food, about tweaking it with ingredients or preparation or simply obsessing over when you’ll eat it next. Even though it could only loosely be characterized as food, it is clear that I had an intense Frosted Chocolate Fudge Pop-Tart obsession when that was my breakfast nearly every day of fifth grade. (Warning: many of my food obsessions of my youth were non-vegan and questionable in quality.) Every morning, I dropped my Pop-Tart in the toaster, grabbed a plate and, after the bell dinged - the sound of angels trumpeting! - I would dreamily bite into it, reassured each time by its predictability and the way, after a bite or two, the toasted top split like the earth’s crust over the weirdly perfect filling. Occasionally I would have a dalliance within the Kellogg’s family of products with Brown Sugar Cinnamon or even Frosted Raspberry, but they were just brief flings. That year of fifth grade, my heart belonged to the Chocolate Fudge Pop-Tart. Another year, probably sixth or seventh grade, my breakfast every morning was untoasted bread spread thick with peanut butter. An open-faced affair, the peanut butter and bread had the illusion of being healthier than it really was, considering that it was made with Jiff and squishy white bread.

I had probably set the wheels in motion for my food obsessions as a small child with my daily Cream of Wheat (a pat of butter melted into it and swirled around in a big circle like a moat) and then there was my five-year-old lunchtime obsession: what my brother and I called “o-soup” for the can of round noodles bobbing in the salty, yellow broth like mini-life preserves. Various obsessions also included my mother’s blueberry pancakes made from Jiffy muffin mix with the wholly man-made “blueberries” and, mmm, lard-y goodness; bowls of vanilla ice cream mixed vigorously but patiently with a spoon until it was that perfect milky-creamy texture; my grandmother’s latkes with the crispy exterior protecting the meltingly soft interior. There was the granola bar every day freshman year of high school for lunch and the daily egg salad sandwiches (I gag to think about it now) my senior year. Oh, let’s not even talk about the summer of the Fudgsicle. Years after my Pop-Tart obsession, when I had my first apartment as a junior in college and viewed that area near the living room (the room with the oven and refrigerator in it) with suspicion, I discovered that stuffing from a box was not only fool-proof to make but something I could happily eat nearly every night. I would buy multiple boxes week, causing me to be labeled The Stuffing Girl by the cheerful cashier at Kroger’s, and causing my roommate, who already considered some of my habits to be rather odd, to raise an eyebrow of judgment at me every evening. No matter: I had my fix.

This all leads me to my most recent obsession, Brussels sprouts. And umami. Umami has been identified as the fifth taste (along with sweet, sour, salty and bitter) and was discovered by the Japanese scientist Dr. Kikunae Ikeda in 1908 when he extracted glutamate, an amino acid, from the sea vegetable kombu in order to understand its compelling flavor better. It turned out that many foods with that specific savory flavor (also considered yeasty, salty and broth-y) share that same amino acid and umami quality. Umami adds a subtle savory complexity to a dish and works more at rounding out flavors than standing out on its own but it is an important factor in creating a satisfying dish and meal.

The problem with umami is that it’s most often found in meat, seafood and cheese. It is also found in plant foods, most specifically mushrooms, seaweed and tomatoes, but it is most strongly associated with the savory and salty flavors found in animal products. With my current food obsession, which I’ll get to any minute now, I promise, I realized that it is the umami that has caused me to make this specific dish three times in the last week, and has me anxiously awaiting the next time. Though my early food obsessions revolved around sweet foods, these days I am decidedly a savory lady. Believe me, I will not be turning down a vegan brownie any time soon, but, really, when it all comes down to it, I have been in hot pursuit of umami most of my adult life, chasing after that elusive fifth taste in most of my kitchen experiments and grown up food obsessions.

Thinking about this dish and the sense of genuine umami pleasure it evokes deep inside me has made me wonder if perhaps some of the people who say they “couldn’t” be vegan because they were unsatisfied or missed meat/cheese/fill-in-the-blank too much were really craving more umami in their lives. For most of us who make the commitment to living as vegans, knowing what we know is enough. There are those, though, for whom the transition to be very difficult. It was easy for me, but maybe part of that was that I enjoy cooking and have been unconsciously creating more umami in my life since I first started improvising in the kitchen. Perhaps when people tell us that they made a genuine effort to be vegan but “lacked the willpower “ (something I hear a lot) or “missed cheese too much,” (something I hear even more) we need to help them figure out ways to bring more umami savoriness into their lives. I really don’t think mock-meats are the answer, and I especially don’t think faux cheeses are either, though they can be great transitional items for people, and any time people are consuming fewer animal products, it’s beneficial. I will recommend umami-rich plant sources next time this topic comes up.

Some plant foods that contain the savory umami flavor and enhance it are the following: miso, nutritional yeast, tamari or soy sauce, mushrooms (especially shiitake), tomatoes, sea vegetables (such as kombu), seaweeds, olives, soybeans, vegan Worcestershire sauce, Vegemite and Korean black bean sauce and liquid smoke. These are almost all complements to a dish rather than the main components so many are good to add to foods to heighten the umami effect. For example, using black bean sauce and tamari in a vegetarian stir-fry would help to create a meal that satisfies umami cravings, as does adding just a touch of liquid smoke in homemade hummus – the effect is so utterly delicious to us savory seekers, it’s hard to believe it’s such a simple little addition.

This all leads me to Brussels Sprouts Sliders. I originally saw the idea for it in a Mark (The Minimalist) Bittman New York Tomes column with quick food ideas for Thanksgiving. He listed 101 such ideas and this was the only one that grabbed me, but it really grabbed me and made me hop on my bicycle and pedal to the grocery store as soon as I could to get what I needed. I’ve adapted it slightly and excluded the meat.

Brussels Sprouts Sliders

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

About twenty large Brussels sprouts, rinsed, trimmed and halved 3 garlic cloves, minced 1 – 2 Tablespoons olive oil Salt and pepper to taste

In a baking pan lined with parchment paper, toss the Brussels sprouts with the olive oil, garlic, salt and pepper. Roast for about 12 minutes, then stir and roast about seven minutes more. The Brussels sprouts should be soft but not mushy.

Meanwhile, caramelize yourself some onions…

2 sweet or yellow onions, cut into thin half-moons
3 Tablespoons olive oil
Salt

Heat a large skillet over medium heat. Add the olive oil, heat for a minute, then add the onions and a sprinkling of salt. Stir frequently, making sure to stir from the bottom of the pan up, to dislodge any sticking onions. They will begin to yellow and shrink in volume, as they darken from yellow to more of a caramel color, lower the heat. Keep cooking until they are at the desired state. This usually takes about twenty minutes and they should be very brown – though not burnt – and sweet when you’re finished cooking them.

Whole grain mustard

Let the onions and the Brussels sprouts cool. When easy to handle, take one half of a Brussels sprout “bun,” smear it with a little mustard, and add a small heap of caramelized onions. Put another Brussels sprout half on top and secure it all with a toothpick. Keep going until all Brussels sprouts are gone. Keep warm in an oven at 250 degrees until serving.

Note: the original recipe suggested bacon or ham in addition to the onions and mustard, which is easy to replicate as a vegan. Smoky tempeh or vegan deli slices would work well, though I like the Brussels sprouts as I described and don’t feel that they are missing anything.

Enjoy yourself on your quest for umami! Please remember that I am a home cook, not a food scientist or a trained chef so this is largely just intuitive. Experiment in the kitchen to find what works for you in satisfying your food obsessions.

Vegan World Month Tip # 30

Adopting a vegan diet is the single best way you can reduce your ecological footprint and make a stand against cruelty to animals. Focusing on locally grown, seasonal and whole plant foods further boosts your health and environmental stewardship. Find a community (virtual or otherwise), get some cookbooks and set some goals for yourself. A vegan diet is imminently do-able!

Vegan World Month Tip #29

I was a vegetarian for many years before I made the commitment to living as a vegan. My transition was prompted by seeing a documentary about the reality of animal agriculture. I could no longer hide from the truth any more. Such documentaries aren't for the faint-of-heart, but if you want to kickstart a more informed, compassionate lifestyle, I recommend them for that reason alone. (I posted this yesterday on my Facebook but forgot to re-post here. Sorry!)

World Vegan Month Tip #28

Many cleaning supplies are not only toxic but tested on laboratory animals. Save money, your health and the animals by making your own homemade cleaning supplies. Made with simple and inexpensive materials like lemon juice, vinegar and baking soda, homemade cleaning products are a smart and compassionate choice.

World Wide Vegan Month Tip #27

Today is Fur Free Friday. My guess is that most readers of this post do not wear fur or support that evil industry. In the spirit of the day, though, take some time to learn more about the fur trade to educate others. Forty-five million animals are brutally killed with steel-jaw traps, gassed, electrocuted and even skinned alive. Please let the people in your life know the truth about these horrible "luxury" items.

Vegan World Month Tip #26

Albert Schweitzer said, "Until he extends the circle of his compassion to all living things, man will not himself find peace." Mahatma Gandhi said, "My life is my message." Make your life your message: go vegan.