Flax to the Max

It's been three full weeks since I started my raw diet.

Why, yes. I am quite proud of myself. Thanks for asking.

Has it been hard? Well, sorta. Being a vegan made the transition much easier. It wasn't like I was trading in donuts for breakfast and Wendy's for lunch for an all salad regimen. As with any life-change, the smaller steps you take the better your chances your success. Being flexible about certain things (dessert while dining at a 5-star restaraunt; popcorn at a basketball game) has helped me some and having an obsessive-compulsive personality has, for once, been a definite help.

One of the tougher parts, though, has been the absence of bread-stuffs. No grain-based pastas or rices, no cereal, no crackers, no bread. It's not that I was "carb-addicted" prior to going raw, but I certainly showed some of the warning signs. Hell, I'll admit it, I'm not proud: I've eaten an entire box of cooked pasta, straight from the pot, by myself. I once ate 3/4 of a box of HoneyNut Cheerio's with spoonfulls of CoolWhip. Ah, those were the days!

Anyway, there are all kinds of things you can make raw to serve as substitutes for the grain stuff (and lots of wonderful sprouted grain foods to serve as transition food between cooked and raw lifestyles). I've been making noodles out of zuchinni and yellow squash; rice out of jicama and parsnips, and of course, eating a ton of nuts. At this point, what I miss the most is not so much the grain-food itself, as the convenience of a box of crackers or a bag of pretzals. Especially when I'm on the road with the Roomie's crew.

So last week I pulled out my dehydrator to whip up something bread-like. One of my raw cookbooks suggested that flax crackers are the easiest place to start because of the "Goo." And boy was it right! I've never seen such Goo! as when I soaked the flax seeds for crackers. The Goo! is so gross and awesome that even when I'm talking about it outloud it's capitalized and punctuated. "Hey, this flax turned into Goo! on me." "Touch this Goo! Roomie." "Eeew! Goo!"

So here's how you get the Goo!:

1. Mix water and flax seeds in a 2:1 ratio (2 cups of water for every cup of seeds)

2. Let sit for at least three hours.

That's it. While you're off watching a movie or cleaning the house or creeping on Facebook or other such productive activities, the flax seeds are releasing their magic Goo! particles into the water. The Goo! is ready when it reaches a consistency of horrible-head-cold mucus. Seriously, this stuff has the viscosity of like, rubber cement.

Turning the Goo! into crackers, though, is a bit more involved - at least for me. Because I don't have the fancy-awesome dehydrator I'd like, I only have one plastic Teflex sheet. Also, my dehydrator is circular for extra inconvenience. This means that I spend about half an hour tracing and cutting circles of parchment paper to fit in my dehydrator trays. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT use wax paper. The wax melts or something and your crackers will stick to the paper and be horrible and you will have to throw them away.

Once the dehydrator trays are lined, spread the Goo! evenly (about 1/8 to 1/4 inch thick) over the sheets. The first time I made these I tried to keep them in little circles so I would have cracker-shaped crackers. This does not work very well as the Goo! has a tendency to spread. It's much easier just to slather the Goo! over the whole sheet and then break the giant cracker into pieces later. Not as pretty, still delicious.

Put the trays on the dehydrator, turn the sucker on and...wait. And wait. And wait. Dehydrating takes a long time. Usually 8-12 hours depending on what you're dehydrating. I almost always have my stuff dh-ing for 12+ hours. I'll set up some seeds soaking after lunch, cut papers and spread Goo! when I get home from teaching, and then check the crackers when I get home from the gym the next morning. I do occasionally rotate the trays on my dehydrator. This allows for a more even drying time, since whatever is closer to the heat source/fan will dry faster.

These are very versatile crackers. The first ones I made were just plain, brown flax seeds. I crumbled them over salads and ate them plain. Kinda bland but still tasty. In the next batch I whipped up, I substituted 3/4 cup of water for 3/4 cup of left-over Raw Teryaki Sauce . Roomie says these tasted like beef jerky. I thought they were a bit oily so I recommend reducing/omitting the oil in any marinade you might want to soak the flax seeds in. You can pretty much blend any kind of herb or spice into the soaking water to change the taste of the crackers. I think I'm going to experiment with carrot and tomato juice next time. In the batch I made Monday, I used golden flax seeds (thank you bulk foods section at Kroger!) and before I put the trays on to dehydrate, I sprinkled each cracker with sea salt and black sesame seeds. Scrumptious would not be an uncalled for adjective for these crackers.

They may have required more energy than opening a box of Triscuits, but I like to think that means they're better for you. They travel well, taste pretty excellent with raw almond butter on them, and last for at least two weeks in a sealed Tupperware. For all I know they may last longer, but two weeks is the longest they've lasted in my house before being devoured.

Small caveat, raw readers: be advised that flax seeds are a natural laxative. A little oil on your salad or a few seeds tossed in your oatmeal probably won't do much to your digestive system. But if you eat a half-dozen or so crackers on top of an already 100% raw day, well, let's just say it gets the mail moving ahead of schedule.

Ending a post on poo. It doesn't get raw-er than that.

Ah, Spring!

When a young lady's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of regattas.

That's right. I said regatta.

10 years ago - hell, 5 years ago - I never would have imagined the amount of time I spend carrying oars to and from a dock alongside various rivers; that I would know what "skying your blade" or "rushing the boat" means; that I would own half a WinTech International racing single.

Yet, here I am. For those of you don't know, regattas are giant boat races. Teams of rowers (crews) race 2K meters (usually) in 1-, 2-, 4-, or 8-person boats. In an 8-person boat, each rower has one oar. This is called sweep rowing. In the 1-person boat, the rower has two oars. This is called sculling. In the 2- and 4-person boats the rowers can have either one or two oars a piece. Regattas are a lot like all-day track meets. Teams bring tents and blankets, post up on the grass near the river to watch the various events, and spend the day. The boats and oars are set up on waist-high slings creating a labyrinth of Vespolis, Dirigos, and Aldens. Parents and supporters come and go, bringing grills and coolers and boxes of snacks. The rowers eat, nap, do homework - usually while wearing wet spandex and nursing blistered feathering hands or "uni" sunburns. Time is marked by first-, second-, and last-calls for events over the loudspeaker and airhorn blasts announcing yet another boat crossing the finish line. Everything smells of mud, river-water, charcoal grills, and sunscreen. It is a glorious way to spend a weekend.

Roomie sweep-rowed in the OU Varsity 4 and Varsity 8 boats for three years. Last year we bought a racing single and he started to compete as a sculler too. This year he coaches the OU women's crew and competes individually. So come spring (and sometimes fall) I get to spend my time on a blanket, slathering on sunscreen, digging through my first-aid kit for bandaids/hair-ties/athletic tape/nail clippers/tampons/shampoo. Or huddling under a poncho, keeping warm & dry several rowers' parkas/socks/shoes/sweatpants, cheering over the wind. Or spending the night in my mini-van only to get up at 5am the next morning, brush my teeth in a high-school locker room, and have breakfast/lunch/mid-morning snack/post-race re-fuel ready for 25 hungry girls. And did I mention - have a damn good time in the process?

What, you might be asking at this point, does all of this have to do with being a raw vegan? Well, in addition to playing team mom for Roomie and his girls (they may be big-time grown-up college kids, but everyone likes to be taken care of on a sports-related road trip. I went on enough of them playing club volleyball in high school to know that), I also have to pack enough food for me to eat. Roomie and the women's crew may be happy with bagels with PB&J, bananas, and yogurt for breakfast, snack boxes full of such perennial favorites as E.L.Fudge, Cheese-Its, Capri Sun, and string cheese for lunch; but I have a slightly more, shall we say, particular palate. I've got to have enough bags of raw veggies and fresh fruit, pre-cut and ready to eat. Depending on how long we're travelling, I have to have plenty of snacks and such to accouter whatever house salad I'll have to order at the road-side restaurant.

To be honest, I think I bring so much stuff for the crew team to eat so I don't feel so conspicuous lugging a huge soft cooler full of produce around just for myself.

The perishable nature of everything I eat makes things a little tricky, and I am always guaranteed a few puzzled glances when I pull out Tupperware containers full of salad and homemade dips and dressings. Here's the funny thing, though: as soon as I pull out the raw veg and dip, I have at least a dozen people asking for a taste. "Oh! I love raw cauliflower!" "Is that carrots and dip?" "Can I try some of that?" As long as they aren't the ones responsible for buying, cutting, cleaning, bagging, or transporting it, Roomie's rowers are very into healthy foods.

For this past weekend's Gov Cup Regatta in West Virginia, I whipped up a raw humus-like dip (that omits the beans to keep things easily digestible) and a tabouli salad using jicama instead of cracked wheat.

Leopard-Print Bikini Zuchinni Tahini Dip (so named for my traditional Gov Cup attire)

1 zuchinni, chopped
6 tablespoons tahini
1/4 cup lemon juice
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 heaping teaspoons cheater garlic
1 teaspoon sea salt
2 scant teaspoons cumin
2 scant teaspoons paprika

Put everything into the blender and whip it smooth. This only makes about a cup or so of dip, but it doubles (and triples) really well. Serve with any kind of raw veggies.

Jicamouli Salad

1 med-large jicama, chopped (about 6 cups)
1/2 cup pine nuts
1/2 cup olive oil
1/2 cup lemon juice
1 cucumber, diced (and peeled if you'd like)
1 big tomato, chopped
3 shallots, diced well
1/2 cup chopped mint
2 cups chopped parsely
at least 2 teaspoons cheater garlic

In a blender/food processor, pulse-chop the jicama until it resembles grains of rice/couscous. Transfer the jicama to a wire-mesh colander and rinse with cold water until the water runs clear. Press all the water out with paper towels then transfer to a large bowl.
In the same blender/food processor, pulse the pine nuts until finely chopped and mix into the bowl of jicama.
Add the olive oil, lemon juice, and garlic to the bowl and mix well.
Add the shallots, mint, and parsley and mix well.
Add the tomatoes and cucumbers, mix well, cover, and refrigerate over night if you can to give the flavors time to mesh. It's really good to eat right away, though too.

Both dishes travelled very well. I had several rowers try (and enjoy!) the tahini dip. The cold jicamouli served over a spinach, romaine, and swiss chard was the perfect accompaniment to laying out in the sun for 6 hours. I think I made up for being out of the tanning beds all winter in one afternoon! Roomie came home with a gold and silver medal; his girls came home with two silvers and a bronze.

Tan lines and clinkage. Not a bad way to start the spring.

Eat Your Rhetoric!

Nut cheese!!

Yes, I said nut cheese.

Go ahead and snigger like a group of 15-year-old boys listening to a report on Bolivian lakes.

I'll wait.

Alright, moving ahead.


Last Tuesday night, Roomie was making penne to use up the last of the pesto. The smell of fresh pasta and cheap jar sauce filled the apartment; salty, starchy, and enticing. What's a 'girl gone raw' (patent pending) to do?

As with most of life's questions, the answer was found in vegetables. Delicious, un-cooked vegetables.

Step one: Mandolin a zucchini. Slice it in half long-ways and mandolin for wide "noodles;" slice in quarters long-ways for fetuccini-style "noodles."

Step two: Pull out your blender and whip up some nut cheese. This recipe is based off the "Middle Eastern Nut Cheese" recipe from The Raw Food Detox Diet cookbook.

Yes, I Said 'Nutcheese' Nutcheese (I think it tastes better if it's one word)

3 heaping tablespoons pine nuts
4 tablespoons macadamia nuts
4 tablespoons walnuts
2 ish tablespoons of lemon juice
a big handful of fresh parsley (stems and leaves)
1 tablespoon (more or less to taste) cheater garlic
7 sprays or Bragg's Liquid Aminos
1 teaspoon tamari
up to 1/4 cup of warm water

In a blender, pulse the nuts, parsley, and garlic. You may have to scrape the sides once or twice.
With the blender on low-medium speed, add the lemon juice, tamari and Bragg's, scraping the sides as needed.
Depending on what you'll be using the nutcheese for slowly add the water and increase the speed until the mixture is very smooth. The less water, the more spread-like the cheese. More water = salad dressing/pasta sauce.

Step 3: Toss the zucchini noodles with the cheese. Top with some vegetables (I used broccoli and cauliflower), fresh chopped tomatoes, a splash of basalmic vinegar if you're feelin' daring... and voila! Raw Fetuccini Alfredo.

***

Eating involves all the senses. Taste, at least for me, is often the least important part of the meal. Mouthfeel and to a lesser extent smell, can completely make or break and dish for me. Most of the cravings I get aren't for specific foods but for textures - crunchy, chewy, sticky, crispy etc. Mandolined zucchini feels like noodles; you can even sort of slurp them up like noodles. Nutcheese has the gritty/creamy feel of certain alfredo sauces. This is not to say that I miss noodles or alfredo sauce, rather that being vegan (and especially raw) makes you realize that your body doesn't need meat/dairy to satisfy it; that what it often wants isn't even the food itself, but some strange combination of nutrition and aesthetics.

But being raw/vegan shouldn't (and isn't for me) be about trying to fool your body into thinking it's still eating meat- and dairy-based dishes. (You might notice some health benefits at first, but eating soy- and rice-based cheese and veggie burgers every day can be just as detrimental to your health as the constant meat and dairy). Notice how in the previous sentences I didn't say "real" meat or cheese. A small pet peeve of mine is the rhetoric of food. Here's where my true English geek-hood is going to come shining through.

**Side note, if I may, to take a moment for a small tangent to argue that this is the point of a college education: not for me to remember who it was who first talked about signifiers and privledged language and when they wrote their groundbreaking case-studies, blah, blah, blah - but to be able to identify when language is being used biasedly, to skew a point of view; in other words, to always be aware that language is a living, moving, changing thing. End tangent. End side note.**

Getting back on track. Though it is sometimes impossible to get around using modifiers like "faux" or "fake" or "psuedo," these words place the concepts they're attached to in a subordinate position to something considered "real" or "actual;" viz. the food labeled "fake" and "faux" has no way of being identified except in relation to what is labeled "real" and "actual" and that relation is often seen as inferior

(Ya like that kids? Throwin' up a little Latin shout-out for all the scholars in the audience. Word to your maters.)

Fake cheese, fake meat, fake ice cream...these things all sound like plastic accessories to the Little Tykes kitchenette in my cousins' playroom. Faux sounds like something created in a lab. Or, like faux fur, something you wear/eat so people still think you're sporting/munching the real thing. Labeling vegetable-based foods as such also implies that there's something real (and by extension, right, true, better) about animal-based food. And we all know that's just not true.

My boss said to me recently, (in a conversation where I try to explain why I eat raw and vegan in a way that doesn't sound proselytizing or like I'm a snob), "why would I want to eat a fake hamburger when I could have the real thing?" And he's right. I don't want to eat fake hamburgers either. I want to eat real food. The ingredient lists on the food I eat almost never contain an unpronouncable word, don't have chemical prefixes and numeric suffixes. Hell, most of the time there isn't an ingredient list! One of the best parts of eating raw is knowing with out a doubt what is in the food on my plate.

Mmmm...now that's good rhetoric! :)

Time Line

Upon considering the latest evolution of my dietary habits, I present for your consideration, friends and enemies, a time line:


1996ish:
I decide to become a vegetarian. This decision was the result of a bet with my oldest friend, K (who at the time was simply my first male friend, my first antagonist, and my first unrequited love). We were on the phone with each other, each eating pizza. He told me his was plain cheese because he was a vegetarian. Mine was probably sausage and mushroom. He then suggested that I lacked the will-power to give up meat for a month. I suggested that he put his money where his mouth was. He teased. I taunted. Ours was the kind of epic junior high love story about which Newbury-award-winning YA novels are written.
As a result of that conversation, I became a what I now call the "Lazy Veg." The LV avoids obvious meat. The LV is willing to pick off pepperonis rather than insist on a separate cheese pizza. The LV rarely reads the list of ingredients. If it says "vegetable soup" then it's veg enough for her.

1997ish:
After being asked to prom - as a sophomore! - by a senior! - and in an effort to lose my baby fat in time to fit into my Nicole Miller prom dress I become a "Serious Veg." I attempt to learn how to prepare tofu. I drink soy milk for the first time; I buy SoyDogs to eat at football games. Instead of just omitting meat, I start adding more vegetables to my diet. I check the labels for everything and am dismayed to see just how often the first ingredient in "vegetable" products is chicken stock.

1998:
For Lent I give up cheese and lose 5 pounds. Result? I become a Lazy Vegan. Similar to the Lazy Veg, I actively avoid eggs and dairy products but am firmly in the "what I don't know won't hurt me" camp. I still eat pasta and bread made with eggs and butter. I start packing my lunch every day (or ordering giant salads from the cafeteria - "no egg, no cheese, no dressing") and become known at the lunch table for my random dishes of sauteed veggies and ugli fruits.

2000:
I go through a phase where I eat primarily food in bar form. After my early morning run/weightlifting, I chow down on a Harvest Bar in the shower while listening to Faith Hill or the South Park movie soundtrack. Hearing "This Kiss" still tastes like fake chocolate chips and humidity. If I was running late, I'd eat my bar on the bike ride to school. For lunch I hang out in the music room with my secret boyfriend and eat a Balance Bar with a bag of baby carrots. After school was more running and a couple hours in the weight room before some vegan meal for dinner. I also consume an unhealthy amount of diet pills. Hydroxycut before they outlawed ephedra was a rocking trip. When I was weaning myself off of the pills that summer, there were a few afternoons when I simultaneously had heart palpitations and was unable to keep my eyes open. On one memorable occasion, I was afraid to fall asleep because every time I started to nod off, my body would forget to breathe.

2001-2002:
I go to college and can't for the life of me figure out why people don't like the dining halls. I mean, what's not to love about gigantic, all-you-can eat salad bars at every meal? And fresh vegan bread? I go on 5am runs around campus, timed to end just when the delivery trucks unload at Gund dining hall. I make friends with the lunch ladies (one should always befriend the lunch ladies) by offering to help carry in boxes. So on the non-delivery days the ladies still let me in early for the first pick of the fruit and warm, homemade granola. I also start skipping lunch in favor of a second and third workouts, a habit I have to this day.

2003-2006:
I leave Kenyon for the branch of OSU in my hometown. I go through several random phases with my eating. There's the summer I refuse to eat anything but fruit smoothies with chocolate soy powder in them before 5pm and dinner. I switch from fruit smoothies to fruit salad and peanut butter eaten straight from the jar. I go back to eating only bars for lunch. There's a few months where I eat only salads and popcorn for dinner.
I get in the habit of "mono-eating," that is, I pick a food for the day and eat only that. i.e. a box of cereal for dinner, several tubes of crackers eaten over the course of the day, a loaf of bread etc. This quirk becomes the root of some my more, *ahem* endearing dietary restrictions, necessitating the (sometimes debilitating) compulsive planning of meals. For example: if I eat nuts for an afternoon snack, I can't eat pasta or bread for the remainder of the day. I can sometimes convince myself to eat granola or a bread with a lot of seeds in it. Popcorn and pretzals can be eaten on the same day, and popcorn and potato chips - but not pretzals and potato chips (and tortilla chips don't combine at all). I can't eat raisins and grapes on the same day. I can't drink wine on a day that I've eaten either raisins or grapes (unless grapes are the only fruit I have consumed that day - then I can drink wine). I can't eat regular nuts and nut butter on the same day. I can't have more than one kind of protein (soy, fake meat/cheese, nuts) in a single day. I can't eat raw tomatoes and sauce/ketchup/tomato-based salad dressing on the same day. I can't drink beer and eat bread on the same day. I can't eat dried fruit and fresh fruit on the same day. These are (unfortunately) only a few of my rules.

2007-2008:
After a near grad-school-career-ending nervous breakdown, I decide to try raw food. I spend my tax return on raw cook books and a super schwanky juicer. I start drinking Green Lemonade every morning which is a good start but I am still stuck in the mono-meal craziness of going days compulsively eating only rice cakes and peanut butter, boxes of cereal, or loaves of bread. I eventually break out of the depression, start eating lunch at the dining halls, working out 3 and 4 times a day again, and move toward being "RBD" (raw before dinner). I spend my stimulus check on a super schwanky blender and start making my own salad dressings. I discover the amazing weight-loss powers of eating nothing but raw fruit and veg all day, having a small dinner, and then drinking all night.

Early 2009:
Having found some measure of happiness eating 70-80% raw and 100% vegan, I decide to start experimenting in the kitchen. I attempt more intricate recipes; I add vegan baked goods to my repertoire. I'm still compulsive about the foods I eat in a single day and what I eat in ratio to how much physical activity I've done. But being in the kitchen becomes a joy rather than a chore. I find it easier to avoide mono-meal snacking if I plan out a labor-intensive vegan dish for dinner. I also decide to combine by heretofore unused degrees in creative writing and new-found love of vegan cooking and venture into the wide world of blogging.

Now:
After almost two weeks of 100% raw eating I'm hooked. I'm making noodles out of zuchinni, "cheese" out of nuts, and am currently experimenting with my first batch of dehydrated flax seed crackers. I am desperately searching my budget for the money to get a spiralizer, a better mandolin, and a food processor. If I can find some space on my kitchen counters, I think I'm going to try sprouting some seeds. Exciting times indeed. Crazy, exciting times.

***

Looking back over the past decade and a half, Roomie hypothesizes that by the time I'm 40, I'll be eating nothing but hydroponic grass. Indeed it does appear that every couple of years or so, I look for a new way to make eating out or having guests over for dinner impossible. My eating habits are both liberating and limiting.

I know I have a compulsive personality and it doesn't always make life easy - on myself or others. Maybe by chanelling all that obsessive behavior into one aspect of my life - food - I have kept it from adversely impacting anything else...or, at least, not as adversely as it could. But I still worry about it. I worry a lot. I am often wracked by guilt-tinged panic attacks at just the thought of having to stop eating raw - even in the context of world travel...a honeymoon...

Ha. If I want a good night's sleep I should probably stop thinking about it. Instead I'll focus on the veggies I have marinating for my lunch tomorrow and my dehydrating crackers. Raw food is not for the weak of heart.

Puttin' on the RItz

As a birthday/anniversary/Easter/just 'cuz celebration, Roomie and I went to Cleveland this weekend. We bought the package at last month's gala charity auction for my H.S. alma mater (hooray for tax write offs!) It included a weekend stay at the Cleveland Ritz, dinner at Lola, and tickets to Sunday's Cavs' game. Mistake by the lake, my ass.

Though I had been looking forward to this little excursion all month, I was loathe to break my raw diet. I was feeling so good - both phyisically and mentally smug - I didn't really want that to end. Thankfully, it didn't really have to.

I spent Friday afternoon before getting on the road packing food for the weekend. Being raw (and to a lesser extent, vegan) is a serious time commitment. I never really feel put out by it, though, which I guess is a good indicator that it's the lifestyle for me. If you're not willing to carry a cooler full of raw veggies into the Ritz or use jars of homemade salad dressing at Easter brunch while everyone else chows down danish, lamb with mint jelly, and hash browns covered in melty cheese then this might not be the diet for you.

Anyway, Friday night we met up with my mom, sister, aunt, and uncle at Flannery's on Prospect in downtown Cleveland. **funfact! Prospect used to be where to go when you wanted a 'good time' nudge nudge wink wink; and what was for sale was always very, shall we say, prominently displayed. Now it's a happening, hip, legal night spot. Go fig.** I had a bag of raw almonds in my purse and since I consider all forms of alcohol raw, I was feeling pretty set. Plus, the waitress was very accomodating. She brought me a side salad covered in all the raw veggies they usually use to garnish. Day one was a raw success. Even if the Indians did lose.

Saturday I had Green Lemonade for breakfast (pre-made the afternoon before) and had plenty of raw fruits (my aunt makes a kick-ass fruit salad) and veggies (my cousin Annie likes to lick one of each kind of vegetable after asking what they are) during the day. I also learned how to play Lego Star Wars. It was the first time I ever played a video game using a joystick controller. It's probably a good thing I don't have the means to purchase an X-Box 360. I would never get any work done.

Saturday night, Roomie and I got dolled up (translation: I curled my hair and put on some boobs) and walked over to Lola. Accompanying the dolling up and boob attachment, was a California Zinfandel from Starry Night Winery. You haven't truly lived until you have had a glass of wine with you in the shower. It also makes blow drying a mess of thick, wet hair and having to wear a bra all night far more tolerable.

Once at Lola's, the first order of business was cocktails. Roomie got his usual - a dirty Sapphire martini, shaken with dry vermouth-seasoned ice, three olives. I wanted to try one of their signature drinks. The menu definitely leaned toward the trendy, (lots of in-house infusions and muddled herbs) but a quick sub of Tanqueray Ten for Ciroc (blech! Vodka from grapes? P. Diddy approved? No thanks.) Turned their "Ginger Gimlet" into a delicious, ginger-tinged "Greyhound."

Lola was really nice. The ambiance wasn't great (it was a little cramped) but it'd been so long since I had been at a restaraunt where the wait staff puts your napkin on your lap for you, I was willing to overlook the boisterous diners around me.

The first course for Roomie was Beef Cheek Pierogie. I can appreciate the concept, and the presentation was superb, but the phrase 'beef cheek' gives me the willies. I ordered the Shaved Baby Root Veggie salad. It was served with mint infused cider vinegar and feta (which I obviously had them hold). So far, so raw.

Second course was squab served with foie gras and a cranberry-mustard reduction for Roomie. For those of you who don't know, squab is the meat from a young, domestic pigeon that has never been allowed to fly; kinda like the fowl equivalent of veal. Foie gras is meat from the liver of a duck or goose that has been force-fed corn. That I sat across from him while he ate and thouroughly enjoyed my evening should illustrate exactly what kind of vegan I am.

I ordered the Pear & Apple salad (sans bleu cheese). It was good - but very sweet. This lead to a conversation about the taste of vegetables. I am a vegan in large part because I LOVE the way veggies taste. I don't need dressing or dips; I could eat a plate of raw veg with nothing on them. Roomie and I hypothesized that all restaraunts should have a vegan or raw foodist on staff to test the salads and veggies. It's easy to forget how good plain spinach tastes if you are always using it to augment meat- or dairy-based dishes. For example, the salad I ate would have been even better if the pecans hadn't been candied. The apples were sweet-sour and the dressing and squash were mellow-sweet. The sugar-sweet pecans were over-kill. Even the raddichio wasn't a strong enough flavor to stand out over the sweet. The taste of raw pecans would have better served the salad. Perhaps this would have been a moot point had I eaten it with the bleu cheese, but I really don't think tang is what this salad needed.

Culinary criticisms aside, the meal was spectacular. We paired the second course with a bottle of 2007 Domaine de la Griveliere Cotes du Rhone. Not too dry, a little jammy, and well-priced. Even more importantly, of course, is that it went well with raw veg and Roomie's meat. A tall order for any wine, but especially difficult for a red.

Dessert was a carmelized pineapple tart with kiwi couli (vegan and almost completely raw!) and the sweet potato s'more sundae. A spoonful of graham ice cream with marshmallows, sweet potato cream, and fudge brownie was totally worth breaking the raw fast.

We took the afterparty back to the hotel lobby for more cocktails and dessert. Many places in Cleveland since the birth of the Rock Hall of Fame have music-themed specialty menus. The cocktail list in the Ritz lobby lounge was no exception. I had a "Hendrix Experience": Hendrick's gin, St. Germain, tonic, cucumber, and lime. If nothing else, this weekend solidified my membership in the "Gin Drinkers 4 Life" club. Roomie had his dirty martini (3 olives, seasoned ice, we're so particular about our cocktails) and we ordered the Snickers parfait and an apple tart. Nothing special but quite tasty. Like the song says, after the lobby we took it to the room and...well, yeah. There's that :)

Easter Sunday, like all Sundays really, was all about church and brunch. I packed my own food so it was pretty much buisness as usual. I have gotten to the point where I don't even feel weird or embarassed or guilty about pulling out a Ziploc container of raw veg and my own dressing. The family was fun. Not a veg among them, but I still love 'em.

And yes, I realize that my sister and I look like stow-aways at a blonde convention, but I'm related to everyone in this picture. I swear!

The day ended with a bucket of popcorn at the Cav's game and a Bunny Bar from Malley's. There's at least a chance the popcorn was vegan. Soy-based "buttery" topping is far cheaper than the real thing. And no matter how raw I go, I steadfastly refuse to give up popcorn. I have gone several days eating nothing but raw veg and popcorn dusted with various herbs and spices. Furthermore, I challenge anyone to sit in a gigantic arena full of exciting basketball, smelling of popcorn and not eat a whole bag for yourself. I may have curiously strong will power but I'm only human.

The Bunny Bar, on the other hand, was abso-tively not vegan. Milk chocolate and crispy rice and what I can only assume is black-tar heroin. This chocolate spanks the pants right off of Cadbury or Hershey or Dove. I have been eating Malley's chocolate for Easter for as long as I can remember. I used to buy a box of their peanut butter Royales (chocolate-covered, super-creamy peanut butter covered in chocolate, shaped like various Easter characters, lambs, bunnies, what have you) and parcel them out over next few months. When I went vegan, I swore off Malley's for 364 days of the year. But come Easter, you bet I'll have my pockets full of Royales and Bunny Bars and Billy-Bobs.

And now I'm back in Athens, back in the raw, and busy trying to catch up on all the work I put off while enjoying Cleveland. Stay tuned for my adventures with the cheap dehydrator, homemade nut-milks, and other catastrophes waiting to happen.

As Easy as A-B-C-De-tox

Since the post-race week is all about rest and recuperation, I decided that I would R&R my whole system as well. This has involved lots of sleeping-in, lots of swimming, and an entirely raw diet.

Now, during an average week, I'd say I'm 70-80% raw. I'm always RBD (Raw Before Dinner; patent pending) but since I'm responsible for feeding my roommate too, I usually cook something for dinner. And to be honest, since I started eating more raw-ly, I had never gone more than two or three days totally raw. After my success with the half-marathon I felt this was the week to try it.

Let me preface my list of things I've eaten/raw recipes by saying - I FEEL AWESOME. I'm rarely hungrier than I was eating cooked food, I think I'm sleeping better, I'm definitely better hydrated, and I think my skin is clearer (though that might have something to do with the lack of sweating I've been doing this week). I FEEL AWESOME.

Anyway, the first few days I kept things pretty simple. Green Lemonade for breakfast, lots of raw salads and veggies with raw dressing for lunch, and salads with raw nuts and dried raw fruit for dinner. Carob nibs or raw chocolate chips for dessert and lots of tea.

Last night, though, I thought I'd get creative. I borrowed a new raw cookbook from some friends and it's quickly becoming one of my favorites. Raw Food/Real World has a lot of recipes that are complicated or labor intensive (lots of dehydrating and cleaver-ing open young coconuts) but I really like the mind-set behind it. The authors (like myself) advocate raw eating because it makes them look and feel good. Plus, they're adorable.

That combined with the new Dry Blade container for my blender (thanks mom!) resulted in two very interesting "rice" dishes. Here's last nights dish:

Jicama Coucous with Red Peppers and Currants

1 jicama, chopped
1/2 cup ish of pine nuts
scant cup of currants
scant 1/2 cup of walnut oil
1 red pepper, chopped
3 bulb onions, chopped
Sea salt


In a dry-blade blender (or food processor) pulse the jicama until it resembles coucous. Transfer to a fine-mesh colander and rinse until the water runs out clear. Press with paper towels to remove as much of the water as you can. Scrape into a large bowl.
In the same blender, pulse the pine nuts until finely ground. Add to the jicama.
Stir in the currants, red pepper, and onions.
Pour the oil over everything and stir well.
Add salt to taste (I used about 6 turns on a small store bought mill).


Roomie and I ate this over a bed of romaine and it was delicious. Crunchy and sweet and nothing really like couscous, but still filling.


Dessert was raw almonds and dried pineapple. I have a cheap-o, infomercial-style dehydrator. It was an obviously re-gifted wedding present that, at the time, quickly found a home in the back of my parent's basement. I recently unearthed it (yes, I put another appliance in my tiny apartment kitchen) to begin experimenting with raw flat breads. I figured I would start fairly easy and dehydrate some fruit. I will never eat store bought pineapple slices again.


Tonight I turned to my raw bible (The Raw Food Detox Diet) for a rice and salad recipe. It is hard to describe how much fun it is to have two different containers for my blender base. I feel like an actual chef when I can whip up some sauce in one container and then put on the dry container, chop up some salad and then combine the two. Seriously high speed.


Anyway, parsnips were one the menu tonight:


Japanese Rice Salad w/ Raw Teryaki Sauce


1 large parsnip, chopped
1/2 cup pine nuts
2 tbs. raw honey
1 tbs. rice vinegar
3 tbs. Raw Teryaki Sauce (recipe below)


Pulse the parsnip in a dry-blade blender or food processor until it resembles rice grains. Transfer to a wire-mesh colander and rinse well until the water runs out clear. Pat dry with paper towels and scrape into a bowl.


In the same blender container, pulse the pine nuts, honey, and vinegar until they reach a crunchy-PB-like consistency. Add to the parsnips and mix well to coat. Add the teryaki sauce, mix well to coat, and set aside.


Raw Teryaki Sauce


1/2 cup tamari
1/2 cup maple syrup
1/2 tsp. ground ginger
1 tsp. cheater garlic
1/8 tsp. sesame chili oil
1/4 tsp. sesame chile oil


Blend all the ingredients until emulsified. Feel free to adjust the ratio between the sesame oils if you like your teryaki spicier.


While the "rice" is sitting, prepare the salad.


1 cup-ish fresh pineapple
1 red pepper, chopped
1-2 green onions, chopped well
1-2 tsp dry basil
1/4 cup soy sauce
3 tbs rice wine vinegar
1/2 head of napa or celery cabbage
1 cup shredded carrots


Place all the ingredients except the cabbage and carrots in a very large bowl and mix well. Try and mash the pineapples a bit while you're mixing to release some of the juices. Add the cabbage and carrots and toss to coat.


Spoon the teryaki rice onto beds of the salad mixture and serve.


This dish was a-to-the-mazing. The multiple layers of sweet (maple syrup in the teryaki, honey in the rice, pineapples and peppers in the salad) make for a really complex dish. I didn't have any wine on hand, but crisp sauv blanc or pino grigio would've paired nicely.


This weekend I'm traveling to Cleveland for Easter so I'll have to break my raw fast for a day or two. But you can bet your dehydrated banana slices I'll be back in the raw come Monday morning.

Oat Flour Power and the Athens' Half-Marathon

For the third year in a row I have completed the Athens' Half-Marathon. The first year I ran it almost on a whim. I had hurt my knee by over-training for the Cleveland Marathon (which I did not end up running) and was cripplingly depressed with being in grad school. Fittingly, it was pouring rain and bleak. I ran it in 2 hours and 20 minutes.

Last year I was in much better spirits. I had just finished my thesis, I had no more classes to take or teach, and the English department was still paying me my stipend. Pap was well enough to make the drive down to watch me finish; it was sunny and 65. I ran it in 2 hours and 4 minutes.

This year it was again sunny and in the 60's. Despite some strained ligaments in my ankle which necessitated almost 4 weeks off in the middle of my training cycle, I was in high spirits. My mom, sister, and roommate were there to see me off, my i-pod was on shuffle. I ran it in 1 hour and 54 minutes.

To say I was pretty f-ing pleased with myself would be an understatement.

But what, you might ask, do I attribute my PR-shattering run this year (other than, of course, my traditional, night-before-the-race Vegan Werewolf pizza from Avalanche)?

Two words: OAT FLOUR.

Ok, ok. So it probably wasn't entirely due to oat flour. But oat flour did feature prominently in my pre-half-marathon baking. There's always a lot of baking (or reading, or movie watching, or arts&crafts) the week before the big race because the training cycle tapers off. Gotta do something when there isn't as much running to do.

Wednesday before the race (30 minute tempo run) I decided that the bananas in my fruit bowl were black enough. Honestly, they were probably half schnapps at that point. I wanted to make banana bread but I was really not in the mood for walnuts. I'm not a huge fan of walnuts. I l-o-v-e love them on salads and they make a cheap pesto in a pinch, but mostly they're just too soft and oily. I like my nuts to crunch. Almonds to the rescue!

So I found me a basic banana bread recipe from one of my vegan cookbooks and set about bad-assing it up with some crunchy nuts. Further bad-assery was acheived by reducing the sugar, using oat flour, and subbing out all the soy.

Bad-Ass Banana Oat Bread

1 cup all-purpose white flour
1 cup oat flour
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 tsp Stevia powder
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp egg replacer powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
3/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup chopped almonds (I only had slivered on hand, but I still ran them through my nut-chopper to make them smaller)
2 almost-liquid ripe bananas
1/4 cup almond milk
1 tbs flax seed meal mixed into 3 tbs warm water
1/4 cup olive oil
2 tsp vanilla

Sift together all the dry ingredients (including the nuts) into a large bowl. Set aside.
With a hand-mixer or blender, whip together the bananas, milk, flax, oil, and vanilla until very smooth.
Add the wet ingredients to the dry and mix until just combined.
Pour batter into an oiled loaf pan and bake for 45-55 minutes at 350F.


This was a light, crumbly bread. The almonds gave it crunch while the flax kept it airy. I really liked the way the oat flour made it taste. Less like a quick bread dessert and more like the memory of a plain-flavored packet of Quaker instant oatmeal to which my Pap would add whole milk and very thinly sliced bananas; eaten out of brown, plastic, non-microwave-safe bowls while using binoculars to watch the groundhogs through the kitchen window. That's a lot for one loaf to accomplish but this bread ain't called badass for nothing.

Thursday before the race (3 mile easy run), my pre-half-marathon jitters demanded cookies. Preferably cookies with some chocolate in them. Enter the Veganomicon and its recipe for "Wheat-Free Chocolate Chip Cookies." It's a fairly straighforward cookie recipe but with flax instead of eggs, and oat flour. And of course, vegan chocolate chips. Whole Foods sells an excellent dairy-free chocolate chip under its "360" label. I would be exponentially more broke than I am if I lived any closer to a Whole Foods.

I absolutely ate half-dozen of these as dessert the night before the race. They were crunchy and crumbly - a little bit like generic Chips Ahoy! or those giant Pepperidge Farm cookies in the white bag. Normally I can't eat chocolate chip cookies. Once upon a time, I got sick at the Cleveland Airport on Mrs. Field's Chocolate Chip Cookies and Diet Pepsi. I was not a particularly health conscious child. These, however, even smell better than regular chocolate chip cookies and as such, I was able to choke them down :)


The moral of the story? Oat flour is delicious and half-marathons are really fun. Put them together and you too might set some personal records.


Even if it is just for most oat cookies/bread eaten in a single sitting.