Grateful for Beans

This Sunday morning, I woke up and started in on my breakfast. I didn't want anything fancy, but I was craving some really solid protein, the sort of food with substance that would last me through my planned walk downtown.

What I put together wasn't revolutionary: multigrain toast with peanut butter, a bunch of grapes, and a half cup of pinto beans straight from the can as a side--no sauce, no seasoning, no nada.

The toast was good, as were those sunny, fat green grapes from Chile, but those beans. Those. Beans. They were creamy and salty and rich and profoundly satisfying.

They were more than just what I was in the mood for, more than just what my body happened to be craving. They tasted heavenly. And as I ate them, I was instantly and profoundly grateful for those simple little guys.

My favorite thing about eating vegan is the way my attitude has changed toward food. Yes, my taste buds have definitely changed--even low sodium rice cakes and plain veggies taste pretty damn scrumptious--but it's more than that.

People focus on what you have to give up when you become vegan, on the denial aspect on it, but they forget that you get to eat fabulous, fresh, colorful food every day, food that doesn't just sustain your body but nourishes it.

Veganism introduced a new form of gratitude into my life: gratitude for my ability to afford fresh vegetables year round, for the time I have to prepare them, and for their availability at my local supermarket. Gratitude for beans and lentils, hummus and split peas, avocados and asparagus and kale. And I'm grateful every time I get to eat just exactly what I want, when I want it.

A surplus of gratitude, even over plain old beans--how can extra gratitude ever be a bad thing?

The Crabby Vegan: Lazy Pepper Pasta

Okay, so the very first week of this vegan thing, I had more late nights at work than usual. I came home each night tired and, in the great tradition of my father’s family, hangry as all get out.

Cheese used to be a great crutch on nights like these because cheese when added to anything at all is pretty damn tasty: tortilla chips, pitas, pasta, crackers, salads, whatever—it was an easy, thoughtless way to dispatch with dinner.

But that night, I wasn't about to give up so easily. I threw together what had to be the crabbiest, snarliest dinner of my life. I called it “Lazy” in the title above, but let’s be honest, folks: in my mind, it was definitely Bitchy Pepper Pasta.

The beauty of BPP (or LPP, if you’d prefer) is that it takes about ten minutes to throw together and it's likely that you have everything you need in your kitchen already. Pasta? Check. Olive oil or spray oil? Check. Garlic? Check. Scraps of veggies, preferably bell peppers and onions, lurking at the bottom of your crisper? Check.

Here’s the “recipe” written in the spirit in which it was created:

Get your salted pasta water boiling. While you’re waiting on that, splash your olive oil (or lightly spray your Pam) in a pan. Mince up your garlic and slice your veggies. (How thin? What, do I look like your mother? Follow your heart, hon.)

Whenever your water starts to boil, add your pasta of choice (I like whole grain because it's heartier and more filling), and set your oiled pan on medium high heat. If some of your veggies are of a tough variety, saute them first and add your other stuff later. Or, if you’re in the throes of an epic hangry, just dump everything in the oil and let it take care of itself. Don’t forget to sprinkle the veggies with salt to taste.

Saute until the minced garlic is a little brown or until the veggies are slightly soft but still firm or until you’re sick of sauteing and you need a break to pour yourself a glass of wine.

Your pasta should be about done at this point. Strain the cooked pasta and throw it in your veggie pan if there’s room. (If not, finish off your veggies and then dump everything in big bowl and stir. Whatever's clever.) If you used any greens like spinach, add them last and let them wilt a bit. (Spinach doesn't add much flavor to dishes when shredded finely, but it does add iron and makes it look kind of fancy like, you know, you put some thought into it or something.)

If you want a Greek flavored dish, add lots of pepper and a splash of red wine vinegar and maybe some kalamata olives and stir until everything’s warm. If you don’t have any of that crap on hand, sprinkle some red pepper flakes on it and move on with your life; nothing’s perfect, so this doesn't have to be, either.

Dump the whole thing in a bowl. Take a picture of it for your blog and lament how blurry the picture is. Reevaluate your life choices and wonder if veganism and/or blogging is for you.

Take three bites along with another sip of your wine. Sigh deeply as your stomach gets the message that it is indeed finally being fed and that you’re not going to waste away in The Great Famine. Decide that maybe everything is going to be alright after all.

Proceed to nomz. 

Pusheen knows what's up. 

Week 1: Early Lessons

This was really not an ideal week to go all vegan-y. Work has been hectic, with long, weird hours, which means that I'm a) hungry at work more, b) at home and free to cook less, and c) exposed to horribly tempting and distinctly UN-vegan cookies and brownies on a regular basis. I feel like I've been waiting forever for the weekend already! Not only will I be able to go to the grocery store and cook some good food for myself, but also I won't be burning through my calories at what feels like a ridiculous rate. (Being hungry every three hours is NOT going to cut it. Adapt, body, adapt!)

Still, I can consider the hunger pains to be growing pains. Here's what I've taken from this week:

1. I can't skip the grocery store like I used to. Grabbing a quick meal at work is going to be nearly impossible depending on where I'm at, so I have to give myself enough raw materials to cook with and snack on before the work week begins.
2. I really need to stick to cooking a big meal on Sunday nights, something satisfying that I can have for lunch throughout the week. Knowing that I had a big pot of vegetable stew to look forward to would have made me much, much happier at several points this week.
3. If I'm not eating something that I love for my meals, then the temptations I run into in between are going to be much more painful. Full=happy.
4. Don't go to a Mexican restaurant if you can't remember whether or not they have a vegetarian section on their menu. (This lead to the most depressing "black bean burrito" I've ever eaten. [Because it wasn't a burrito. It was a flour tortilla wrapped around a mound of plain black beans with a little hump of iceberg lettuce on the side. Sad face. ])
5. Fat is good. My body is totally missing the cheese I used to sprinkle on everything, and I'm having a hard time feeling full for long. So far, avocado and peanut butter have helped a lot, but damn. I've got to look into finding some fatty proteins that stick to my ribs. I've always been afraid of seitan, but maybe?
6. Never let yourself run out of chickpeas. Never. You will get home and go to make a salad and cry and cry and cry.

The good news is that so far, I'm batting a thousand: I was able to stay vegan for all eight meals and three snacks I've eaten this week. Go team!