The Cold Meat and Dairy War

My guy is what I refer to as a Lazitarian, too lazy to cook, he eats whatever is laid in front of him. When he first moved in under cover of habit (see Stealth Cohabitation) he became a vegetarian out of necessity - I do all the cooking and I don't cook meet. Though he was gaining weight due to regular meals and careful attention to nutrition, his mother was sure he was malnourished and starving because...well, a person can't live without meat, especially her only child person. Eventually, he went back to eating meat when dinning out or at either of his parent's places but remained vegetarian at home.

He is a stubborn one, my guy and if pushed one way, will run the other (sound familiar to anyone out there? Hands up if you are dating one) and he can be spiteful, though rarely, just for the sake of it. It is the latter attribute that is waging a full on cold war in my refrigerator. I say "my" refrigerator because a) I bought it and b) the kitchen is my domain, much like gardening is his. It has nothing to do with gender or cultural expectations, each sticks with what they know. Food prep, weight training plans, hand-to-hand combat, plumbing and feudal weapons are my things. Bicycle repair, planting and watering things that grow, wood working, guns and grocery shopping are his. Don't even get me started on his rigorous miltaresque policies regarding bed making. I've been known to fight my way out of the restrictive covers.

When my guy worked in a factory and had access to a refrigerator and microwave, I made his lunches. Usually I just made enough dinner to ensure he had a meal for the following day. This summer he started trimming and removing trees then added landscaping and decks to his repertoire. Outdoor work that necessitated the need for sandwiches or at least foods that did not require heating. I assumed he could make a sandwich for himself, it requires very little culinary skill. That's when the luncheon meat started appearing in and contaminating my refrigerator. Then the chicken toquitos (if you don't know what those are, consider yourself lucky, microwaved there are the most offensive smell ever to waft from my kitchen). When I announced my decision to transition from vegetarian to vegan, nearly everything he brought home from the grocery store contained meat, cheese or egg. 

The cold meat/dairy war is upon us. He now even buys potato chips (my weakness) with dairy in them. Nothing gives him more pleasure than eating chocolate covered almonds in my presence and offering me one about every 3 minutes. He goes out of his way to grocery shop for things I cannot eat, even though I am the cook in the house and he knows what I prepare for us will be vegan. He has no complaint with the taste or quality of the food I prepare. He likes my cooking, even my vegan cooking. Really, my being vegan doesn't effect him at all, and yet he intentionally tries to thwart me at every opportunity. The better my diet becomes, the more processed junk he eats. He's at a barbeque tonight, stuffing his face with steak and domestic beer, while I'm home, drinking craft beer, eating a decadent cashew butter and vanilla pear jam sandwich, playing music too loud and dancing in my underwear. 

Rest well my dear, for tomorrow I reclaim my refrigerator, "Once more unto the Veggie Crisper, dear friends, once more....

Guess Who's Vegan To Dinner?

I became a Vegetarian at the age of thirteen. Recently I have decided to make the transition to full Vegan thanks to my new status as a Vega Community Ambassador, and to the inspiring recipes found on thriveforward.com and ohsheglows.com. I have yet to break the news to my family. I say "break" because, despite my not having eaten meat in over ahargahem years, I still hear "what are we going to feed you?" every time I attend a family meal. True, my father was raised on a cattle farm, but I have seen all of my family members consume at least some foods that did not consist of flesh.

All my adult life I have been asked, "well, what do you eat?" and "but, where do you get your protein?" Imagine their horror when I have to explain that eggs, cheese, and honey have joined the pantheon of "Protein Lisa Doesn't Eat". With Canadian Thanksgiving fast approaching, bringing meals with my family, my partner's family (both our parents are divorced so that makes 4 meals instead of two) where I will have to break the "bad" news to everyone I thought I'd do so in one missive with plenty of advanced warning.

The average Thanksgiving table in my family consists of a roasted bird or swine of some kind, boiled (generally mashed) autumn harvest root vegetables such as carrots, squash, potatoes, turnip, and a dessert (usually pumpkin pie) served with whipped cream or ice cream. All those root vegetables are my domain. They fall under the "not meat" umbrella of "Food Lisa Does Eat". I don't have nut allergies or gluten intolerance. I don't have a carbohydrate phobia (you need carbs, people). In fact, my diet has more variety than the restrictive fad diets of most of my family.

Let's start with the great protein myth; there are plant proteins, many plant proteins. It is very rare to eat anything that is all protein or all carbohydrate. Food is complex. Most things you put in your mouth contain protein and carbohydrate, and sometimes fat at the same time. Foods get labeled as a "carb" or a "protein" depending on the ratio or carbs to proteins to fats. If it has more protein than carbohydrates or fats, it is considered a protein. The only foods that are "pure" anything are manmade, heavily processed and should be limited if not avoided altogether. If it grows by itself, without humans doing too much to intervene, it is a mix. So, chances are something on the menu that isn't an animal will have protein, and that's where I get it.

The "well, what do you eat?" question is easier to answer; everything that doesn't have meat, eggs, dairy or honey. That includes, all vegetables, fruits, grains, nuts and legumes, edible flowers, herbs and spices, I love herbs and spices. Essentially I eat everything edible that grows but doesn't bleed. That leaves the door pretty wide open for feeding me or heck, why don't I just make a few dishes to add to the table and I'll eat that! Everybody wins!