No Meat Week: "The End of Days"

In about 45 minutes, Housten and I will make a meat toast. I'll hold up my package of Gallo Italian dry salami, he'll thrust up a Slim Jim, and we'll probably say something along the lines of this....

"We have just gone seven days without implicitly contributing to the scarification and slaughter of animals by consuming their flesh. Seven days is a long-ass time: Enough for God to create the world, Joan of Arc to fly around some crazy ass shit, and Housten to download the entire series of Alien Nation. God is good, beer is great, and people are crazy."  

pig blood

And then, after a short moment of silence, we'll eat.

It's probably not going to taste good. Not because the week of lentils has made me averse to the idea of consuming flesh, but because we bought this shit from 7 fucking 11....Gelatinous cubes of pig's blood probably taste better.

But seriously, I'm really surprised at how easy it all was. After the initial shock of the first two days, I really got used to the rhythm of vegetarianism. It took a little longer to order comfortably at restaurants (I've never had a dietary restriction before!), but eventually it became second-nature.

Especially at home. I'll admit I didn't make 90 percent of the foods I'd talked up, but for the most part, my meals were delicious and satisfying.

Last night, for example, I directed a magnum opus of French country cooking.

sangria (okay, not really French)

leeks vinaigrette with egg noodles

Confit of radishes in the pan

I admit, I've made this before when a vegetarian friend came to dinner. But the meal created such a stir that it's been inserted into the collective memory of Andi's kitchen prowess. First, you start off with a bunch of leeks (Get them as large as you can because the end product is sturdier and more substantial) and perform all of the proper trimming and washing. Here's a nice video showing you how to do it.

Then, you basically seer them in butter and oil, pour in some white wine and cook for a bit, add broth (I substituted vegetable), and bake in the oven for twenty minutes. Check out the full recipe from Bon Appetit here. Oh, and once you've mastered the vinaigrette dressing to put on top, you'll never want to go back to jarred dressing again. Add a bit of honey if you like it sweet. Goes great on salads.

You've also got to try this radish confit as a side. The sweet citrus flavors of the sliced root vegetable give the buttery leek a little pep. Since you're cooking them down for awhile, the color of the radishes becomes more concentrated, giving them a beautiful bright pink glow. Boil some egg noodles too- You're going to need something a little bland to balance all these flavors!

I also tried some fake chicken strips this week. Under the suggestion of the brilliant and beautiful Jamie Ross, I picked up some Gardein "seven grain crispy tenders I'm meat-free." (Is that the whole title?) and watched them bubble in the oven for a bit. I swear I'll try yours too Cheena, but I couldn't find them at Safeway yesterday.

I was actually pretty surprised! They were the best non-meat meat I've ever had. I was a little suspicious when I saw pieces of oats used in the breading, but for the most part, these guys were indistinguishable from the McDonald's stuff. It was probably easier for Gardein to get it right though, because real chicken nuggets aren't meat either.

I hope I haven't disappointed anyone by deciding to go back to eating meat. I don't think it was ever my intention to become vegetarian permanently, despite what I may have intimated. As a food writer who never takes no for an answer, I wanted to experience the feeling of restraint for a change. I wanted to feel how the other - more responsible - half lives. I wanted to understand where you're coming from.

I don't think my efforts have gone to waste. Over the past week, I've realized how painless and even exhilarating it is to eat vegetarian. Before, I think I treated meat like it was toast or something. I was gluttonous and irresponsible, popping meat into my mouth without the special regard it deserves. In the future, I hope I can live up to higher standards: eating responsibly and with appreciation for the sacrifices (animals and humans) make.

Frequently asked vegetarian questions:

1. Do you feel healthier?
 Not really. I ate a lot of cheese. 

2. Did you save money?
I don't think so. Leeks are surprisingly expensive! I did go to a sushi restaurant tonight and eat a cheap bowl of udon soup. But honestly, I probably would have done that anyway. I LOVE UDON!

3. Do you feel EMPOWERED?
A little bit. The understanding and support of others - especially H. Dog - helped me realize that people care about me and my stinky self-inflicted obstacle courses. It's nice to take something on and succeed at it too. Other than that, I still don't know shit about chakras or whatever.

4. Would you do ever it again?
But of course!

No Meat Week: Experiment?

Alright, so I've decided to lighten up a bit about the Morningstar products. After five days of flesh rejection, I think I've adequately demonstrated that I can stick to vegetables and cheese and go without fake meat. Cool! On Sunday at midnight I can start eating all the salami I want again, knowing that for the week of April 16-22, 2012 I was kind of a badass. Ting ting: everyone hold up your bacon lard rosemary shrimp skin martinis and give three cheers to Andi!

But I'd be missing a great opportunity...Now that I know what it's like to crave meat and not be able to have it, I can more objectively judge some of America's finest mock foods!

So I really want to try some fake chicken nuggets, but which ones? There's no way I can do that soyrizo shit, and I don't know about that mock duck either. And whatever I eat, I need to eat it in the next couple of days, otherwise the experiment won't work. So this is the challenge to you, my faithful My Dinner With Andi readers: If you suggest a fake meat product that surprises and satisfies, I'll buy you a packet on the house. (Or I'll just give you five bucks.)

Gonna make leeks vinaigrette tonight! Pretty stoked...

No Meat Week: Days 2 and 3

So I managed to last a day and a half without craving some serious shit. Mostly it's because I've been sitting at home in the comfort of my vegeteria, seeing and smelling nothing but lentil chips and blocks of sharp cheddar cheese all day long. (So thankful I didn't take the "vegan" pledge.)

But it all changed Tuesday when I set out for another jog around the lake, wearing my Spam shirt and the fifteen-year-old sweat pants I've been using since my competitive soccer days in junior high. Right about the time I passed that Terrace Room restaurant, a bewitching smell of carne asada and roasted green onions wafted up. (Not sure why. Do they make Mexican food at the Terrace Room?!) With the regular jogging, my sweat pants had been deteriorating rapidly as of late, reaching the point where the upper thigh section had almost completely worn away, making the area above the knee more like a sweat skirt than a sweat pant.

Some serious chaffing was going down. The blisters and raw underlayer of my skin were so irritated that it actually felt better to run than to walk, which almost worked for approximately one and a half blocks. Anyway, I was sweating and panting and crying, just trying as hard as I possibly could to maintain a half-jog-half-walk, with the smell of beef enveloping me and my thighs metaphorically turning into ground pork.

And at that moment I thought, "I am meat."

And from then on, the serious, almost cannibalistic, cravings began. First it was salami - a thin slice of genoa wrapped around my tongue, a firm hunk of soppressata, a crispy crunch of pepperoni - then pulled pork. Then cheeseburgers, then a pastrami reuben and then shrimp like in gambas al ajillo and then shrimp cocktail and onto shrimp fettuccine. Then the wine drenched ossobuco like they did at NoRTH, then roast beef from the deli and lastly, chicken nuggets.

I think it's because I've been writing this blog, honestly. I'm focusing on it too much. Housten, who's also doing this crap, has been taking it much better than I have. But his one admission was out of frustration yesterday when he simply declared, "This sucks."

So far, I haven't quite lived up to my goal of creating wonderful "transformative" meals. Things and events and life keep popping up and we end up eating vegetarian chili cheese fries, bean enchiladas or shitty pizza. I'm actually worried that I'm going to gain weight. Since I'm forbidding myself the pleasure of meat, I've been more inclined to seek comfort in carbs and fat. It's not even a matter of willpower now, but of selection...

Yesterday, after shoving myself over to San Francisco to see the chef Jacques Pepin speak, I found myself at a hot dog stand with an uncomfortable pang of hunger and a delicate choice. Do I pick the vegan tofu dog or the salt covered pretzel. I'd been eating bread all day and I wanted to try the tofu dog, but to my own surprise, I chose the pretzel.

After a sleepless night and listless daylight hours, I've analyzed and re-enacted this decision enough to understand it. I think I can confidently say that I chose the pretzel out of embarrassment. On the one hand, my psyche sensed that the pretzel vender dude somehow knew me and could pinpoint my hypocrisy, citing proclamations and drunken accusations I've made since the age of 13. But on the other hand, I knew this was bogus and was simply embarrassed anyway.

In America today and even in the Bay Area, is there still a stigma against vegetarianism? Or is it all in my head?

Last night while consuming copious amounts of barley (a good source of protein!), my friend Stella told me about her decision to stop eating meat after leaving small-town Montana where she grew up. Away from the culture of small farms, she felt disillusioned by the lack of intimacy and knowledge of her meat, and rejected the disconnection by going veg for a few years. But when she came back to town, not everyone understood the factors influencing her lifestyle. She brought veggie burgers to a barbecue, and somehow pissed people off so badly that they threw pieces of meat at her.

I'd like to think that myself and other Bay Area liberals are civilized and understand the boundaries of "individual choice" enough to let people make their own decisions. But I don't know. How many times have I felt affronted by someone else's choice to order the bean burrito, the mock duck, the frozen veggie burger... To not eat my pork that I've been roasting all day. To reject the soup because it's made with chicken broth. Have I hurled metaphorical meat at them? More importantly: Were they hurling leeks at me in their mind? Or were we all just hurling, because we just ate three-day old Phillipino curry from a trough in East Oakland, because I'd read they had good something or other but couldn't remember what it was.

Random foodie fun:
Here's a picture of Jacques Pepin from the other side of a window, where I was forced to view him because I didn't arrive early enough. I wonder what he would have thought of this whole episode...

No Meat Week: Day 1

It was 11 p.m. on a Sunday night and my refrigerator was lusty, alluring and full of meat. I wanted to violate him, to plunge down into his cavernous shelves and, frankly, to do things to his insides that have never been done before. I wanted to pop my refrigerator's cherry.

With the slightest glimmer of consent, I thrust my hands inside and grabbed the leftover Mexican chorizo log, the 50-percent-off deli ham and the box of crunchy pork roast from Oakland Chinatown. And one by one, I threw them all away.

And how did I feel afterwards, standing in the lonely glow of his fluorescent light bulb? I felt shame, unadulterated shame.

I'm not really sure if the decision to take on Oakland Veg Week was even about meat in the first place, or rather a misguided attempt to test my willpower. After a Saturday jog around the lake, I strutted past their information table and knew without even stopping that I'd take the pledge. As if it was my last lap or something.

But like most meat enthusiasts - especially those without the pocketbooks to shop at Whole Foods - I nurse a complex about being omnivorous. My conscience beats when I bite, so I compensate by making rules that justify my actions. My number one rule about eating meat: Never waste it.

I don't want to dwell on it because the discussion's already been hashed, but there's something presumptuous about vegetarianism in America. We shun meat out of privilege, because we have the resources and the social/educational network that allows us to do so. In China, they eat meat only like once a week, and they eat the whole damn animal because they need to make the most of it. Is this practice desirable or reprehensible? Should they be eating more seitan instead? Should we be eating rooster comb?

I know I can't send my crispy pork to China, but as a Jew and someone who really fucking loves crispy pork roast with the crackling skin that pops on your tongue, it still hurts to throw it away. Hopefully though, that will be the last time this week. From Monday to Sunday (I started a day late because my friend invited us to dinner at his house), Housten and I will refrain from any and all contact with Porky Pig. Yeah, Housten said he'd do this thing with me. And I can't call him "Mansten" anymore because he doesn't like it.

Well, the first night didn't go so hot because RaeLynne and I royally fucked up the dumplings we were making in substitute of animal flesh. We didn't plan too well and used whole wheat flour instead of regular flour, turning our dough balls into glutinous tumors of margarine and misery. On the exterior, mush runs rampant, and in the center lies a single jewel of uncooked wheat flour, where flavor goes to die. But on the upside, the kale with cranberries and almonds was tasty.

For the rest of the week, I'm going to try my best not to simply vegetarianize the meat, potatoes, and vegetables dynamic. I want to create food that transcends the limitations of the American plate, draws from the wisdom of other cultures, and fulfills us at the same time. So no Morningstar, and no macro meals whatever the hell that is.

I wrote down some ideas, but we'll see if I stick to them. Who knows, by the time I reach the last curve of the last lap, I may stumble and feel out of breath just ready for a hamburger or something. But maybe, who knows, I may pass the finish line and just keep on runnin...


Tentative list:

-Leeks vinaigrette with egg noodles (France)

-vegetarian lasagne, with some mushrooms and shit! (Italy)

-bean and sour cream enchiladas. Housten wants to make this one. (Mexico/Tucson/Safford/Justyn's house)

-Ratatouille (France)

-Fried tofu with Chinese cabbage from one of my cookbooks (Japan)

-some kind of Asian noodles like jap jae, chow fun, lo mein, etc. (Asia)

-Thomas Keller's grits cakes, although this looks really fucking hard. (California) And maybe some collard greens on the side. (Georgia?)

-Vegetarian tapas, like garlic mushrooms in olive oil and patatas bravas? I don't know. (Spain)

-I don't know, some Indian food? (India)


What do you think???