Brandon Eats

Virtuously Vegan

Mark Bittman could tell me to how to eat worms and I'd probably follow his instructions to the letter. Fortunately, all he wants me to do, in Food Matters, is veganize my menu before 6:00 pm, and then he cuts me loose after that.

I can mostly follow that. I've got a weakness for dairy--oh, the siren song of yogurt at 4:00 in the afternoon--but I'm getting along pretty nicely. Helpful in my transition to a lesser-meat lifestyle is a book about which I can never say enough nice things. Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero, created in their book, Veganomicon, a meatless compendium even the most dedicated of carnivores can love. Really.

Along with Bittman's How to Cook Everything Vegetarian, you can revolutionize the way you eat and not even notice it. There's more chopping to do, yes, and granted, I still bitch about that and probably always will. However, a lot of my complaining in the past has been because the pay-off never seemed worth it in the end. My lackluster, tamari-laced meal,* the result of at least a solid hour of chopping and sauteing, rarely felt like the effort involved was rewarded.

Not so with Veganomicon (or Bittman). Below you'll find a recipe that my entire family ate without a blink, without a shudder, without even a tiny, sad sigh. Shock ensued when I informed them that it was vegan. This was clearly and definitively a success, Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero. I don't know if it's your three names each that make you so magical with the culinary plant life, but I have to hand it to you--you've won me heart and stomach.

*Vegetarians sometimes seem to think that if they pump up the umami with a little tamari, anything will be palatable.

Recipe after the jump

A Plum By Any Other Name

On our trip last summer, we all ate buckets of lovely Reine-Claudes, little green plums that tasted like they'd been bathed in honey (above you'll see a bowl of Reine-Claudes along with yellow mirabelles). I searched around when I got home but I couldn't find any here in the US, until I realized that Reine-Claudes are actually greengages. This isn't particularly helpful, because if you live outside of England and don't have a grandmother with a farm that's been in her family for generations with a lot of heirloom fruit trees, you still can't find them anywhere. At least in Virginia.

You can find preserves, however. One jar is outrageously expensive but what do you expect? YOU CAN'T FIND GREENGAGES ANYWHERE. 

As you can see above, the preserves I brought back from France are dangerously low and have, in fact, been hidden away from children at this point. I will continue to eat them in secret, topping butter-soaked slices of thick toast, until every last remnant has been scraped away. And when I buy my next jar, the key, I think, is to never let anyone else know I have it.