Of the Different Modes of Acquiring the Non-Understanding of Things, or One Girl's Touching Journey Into Cynicism and Misanthropy
Thursday, April 24, 2008
I'm not a vegan. I do have some very good vegan friends who I like because they don't really make a big deal over what they eat. But then, some vegans make me want to strangle them.
For example, when I worked in France I had a "vegan" who shared our lodgings with us. He was this 300 pound hippy with an irritating habit of being very condescending toward us regardless of the fact that he a) had an associate's degree; b) could not climb stairs without gasping; and c) was Canadian. No respect here.
At somee point while working with him we started noticing that all the candy bars we kept around for the kids were disappearing. And then their Halloween candy was gone. And so was my fromage blanc and creme de chatain from the staff fridge. (I don't do too well when I don't have that soothing combination around).
And then there were mealtimes. As if it weren't irritating enough for the French staff to have to cook meals for 150 people, they had to figure out how not to put animal products in any of it. This is very hard for the French because I'm convinced that they are nursed on butter. But no, along with all those beautifully made dishes they had to SOMEHOW come up with SOMETHING that this guy could eat. (My favorite was the day he got a bowl of lettuce.)
And thus, his largest transgression was finally discovered.
Because of the lack of options, our friend was confined to eating mostly lentils. Lentils can pass through the body intact.
And so, when a good friend went into our shower and discovered that her sponge had pieces of lentils all over it ... well, you can draw your own conclusions from that.
Now, after you've been completely grossed out, I'm going to give you a more happy chapter on vegans. And that's if you're like me and usually don't keep too many eggs and milk around, there's always vegan cake recipes for when you get the urge at midnight to bake a cake.
Which leads me to another weird point. I bake a lot, but I don't eat any of it. I've been feeding my neighbors for weeks. Today I finally had a piece of my own creation which was divine, but have packed up the rest for a friend's birthday. There's just something soothing about recipes, because they're the only things that are predictable ... well, as long as unlike me you know the difference between teaspoons and their larger cousins.
Here's my fave so far. It's actually better if you halve the sugar because it's pretty frickin' rich to start with.
Mexican Chocolate Cake INGREDIENTS: • 1 1/2 cups flour • 1 cup sugar • 1/4 cup cocoa • 1 tsp baking soda • 1 1/2 tsp cinnamon • 3/4 tsp cayenne pepper • 1 tsp vanilla • 1 tbsp white vinegar • 5 tbsp vegetable oil • 1 cup cold water • 2 tbsp powdered (Confectioner's) sugar PREPARATION: Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees and lightly grease a 9 inch cake pan. In a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar, cocoa, baking soda, cunnamon and cayenne. Add the vanilla, vinegar, oil and water and stir until just combined. Pour into the cake pan and bake for 30 minutes, or until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean. Remove from oven and sprinkle with the powdered sugar.
Crunching conundrums, blasting boredom, eliciting criticism, languishing while laughing, blaming poetry (and/or the lack of) for all of my choices, leaving it to the stars or the people better equipped to handle it, cackling at catastrophe and saying sayanora to sourpusses and sore losers