my sweet potato cake with maple walnut fudge icing won third place at the famer’s market seasonal dessert contest. the only vegan thing in sight.
Homemade vegan mac n cheese!
yup yup i made that. loving the vegan sleepovers :)
Oh hello, Vanessa and I made our first mini zine:
Shit That Annoys Us: Brown Grrrl Edition
We had a lot of fun making this. :3
If you would like a copy, we are asking for $1 + stamp, but if you can’t do that, covering the cost of the stamp (.45) would be cool (And if you can’t do that either, we can still send you one.)
Indeed Willow Smith is on the cover and Beyonce may or may not be all up in this piece. You’ll have to see.
All of this food was perfect and totally random. Stuffed peppers, beets, and sushi making party. Steph made all this like it was no big deal. She is probably one of the most beautiful ladies I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. You should probably follow her on tumblr and get in line to date her.
(Not pictured was the tastiest lemon cake with lemon sorbet for dessert)
thanks friend. when are you moving in again?
our homemade black bean basil quinoa burgers with vegan cheese, carmelized onions, and all the toppings. having vegan friends means i no longer have to grill my solitary veggie burger (ensconced in foil to protect it from all the grease) alongside a dozen hamburgers and hot dogs.
American #vegan 🇺🇸🍔💐 (Taken with Instagram at Love Letter: Miss You)
‘Twas a good birthday meal for America.
herbed gluten-free chickpea crepe/pancake with garlic and chard. and i got to meet the neighbors’ cat while i picked herbs from the garden.
since i’ve been too busy/tired to blog lately, but not to make food…
I woke up early to a special roomie treat from Stephanie :) Vegan blueberry flaxseed pancakes! They smell so good unf.
Veganista Body Politics (the beginning)
So, I interact with strangers every day, and these interactions – however brief or lengthy, however ordinary or bizarre– create a really meaningful layer of my life. Sometimes I’m explaining the myriad uses of kale from behind a farmer’s market table. Sometimes I’m the girl hoisting kayaks around and demonstrating effective paddling technique to the newcomers. Sometimes I’m out on my front porch for a rainy day picnic, saying hello to every person who passes by and smiles at the scene. Sometimes I’m the person on the street corner handing out “Compassionate Choices” leaflets about vegetarianism or wandering around community events with petitions and my face painted bright blue, asking people “Do you know about fracking?” Most of the time I’m just biking around West Philly, but I’m always up for talking to anyone I encounter, doing what I can to bridge the boundaries between the self and the other, offering kindness, respect, and positity on the most basic interpersonal level. Great, right?
But sometimes, not often but somtimes, there is more than just the friendly hello or sidewalk conversation. Sometimes there is the lingering glance, the un-straying eye contact, the slight nod of the head. The second glance. The third. You know, it’s just kind of cool when you notice an intriguing someone and they notice you back, when a good-natured bout of flirtation begins to commence. That’s what happened to me tonight, and it was unexpected and fun (well, for the most part), but because of just one little comment during our exchange, my mind has been a mess of thoughts about gender, fat acceptance, perception, what we say to strangers about their bodies, and how we choose to say it.
Basically, a cute fellow and I swapped the general questions – the what do you do? where are you from? oh, you’re a mostly unemployed recent graduate, yeah me too – and when he asked me what I like to do, I said the usual: run, bike, garden, cook…
“Wait, are you a vegan?” he questioned. “Your shirt says something about that.”
“Yup,” I said.
“Really? I was surprised, since you’re a little overweight and all — “
I know his comment didn’t end right there, but I can’t remember what he said directly afterward. The single word “OVERWEIGHT” hung in my mind for the rest of our conversation, which did continue for a few more minutes, still with some of the initial flirty vibe, but for me it felt rote and no longer sparkling. I responded to his comment in my general, upbeat way:
“Yeah, being a vegan doesn’t actually equal one specific body type. I love to cook, eat healthy foods, and be active. I bike all the time and I’m training for the marathon! I’m really happy with my life, with who I am, with, well, everything…”
That’s what I said to him, and I wish it was entirely true. I am happy with my life right now, and I am happy with who I am, but self-acceptance is still a struggle, still a journey, and something that doesn’t come easily. Especially when it comes to body shape and appearance – things have been better ever since I started limiting my exposure to media and visuals that display one ideal of female beauty, but that doesn’t mean I can look myself every day and give thanks for scars, hair, curves, acne, and anything else that chips away at my image of myself.
However, I don’t just see myself as the shape of a female body: I am everything that makes up me. I am creative, generous, curious, and thoughtful. I am a feminist, a poet (sometimes), a girl with gorgeous dreadlocks and skin that smells of eucalyptus (thanks to Manda’s Dr. Bronner’s). But somehow when that guy looked at me, what he saw was fat girl, and he had no qualms casually sharing that with me during the brief course of our conversation. Perhaps it didn’t strike him as offensive or hurtful to use a simple word like “overweight,” and I’m really not all that broken up about it, but it got me thinking about female bodies in the public gaze and the freedom with which men (and women) consider the weight and shape of bodies – judging, comparing, fetishizing – and sharing those judgments without any consideration for the beautiful variety and depth that makes us all who we are. No, my skin isn’t stretched tight over my bones, but when I see myself, “overweight” isn’t the first thing that comes to mind. I think “strong” and a whole host of other things that I value. It’s too bad that after tonight’s conversation, I biked home thinking, What if I skipped a few meals this week? What if I ran a few more miles and did ab workouts instead of yoga? I need to stop eating pancakes for breakfast, sharing vegan desserts with my roomie, and late-night snacking. But these thoughts are fleeting. They’re in response to a hurtful comment, and I’ll pay attention to them and make sense of where they’re coming from. But I’ll go on living, and I’m going to publicly affirm myself and others, because that is way better than telling someone else you think their body is too heavy.
And to the guy who left with a wink and a “see ya around,” here’s what I have to say: I wish you the best in finding the body you want, because I sure don’t think it’s mine, and if we do see each other around, how ‘bout we talk about feminism (s) and revolution. Okay, thanks.
Home grown vegan pizza.
Sourdough crust with local bread flour. Chard, herbs, and micro-greens from my garden. Mushrooms and escarole left over from the farmer’s market (aka-free!). Walnut pesto with lemon basil and parsley from the garden.
Mulberries! This is the first time I’ve lived somewhere with mulberry trees, so last week I was really excited to go berry-picking and try out some recipes. It was harder than I thought — the nearby trees had already been picked over, so when I finally found one with lots of berries, the branches were too high for me to reach and I ended up climbing into the tree, shaking the branches, and collecting the berries from the ground. I didn’t get as many as I’d hoped, but more scavenging adventures to come.
I don’t think mulberries are nearly as flavorful as the wild blackberries and raspberries I picked behind my house when I was a kid, but after boiling them down and flavoring with some vanilla and maple syrup, I got a pretty decent compote, not to mention pancake topping.