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Is it the best pizza I’ve ever had? Of course not. Is it a beautifully marketed key to my childhood memories? You betcha.

Tofurky/Turtle Island isn’t necessarily a crew of geniuses—they just figured out how to do it first. It’s so obvious! I mean, I thought of making my own pizzas then freezing them, and Daiya was the perfect catalyst for realizing these convenience food dreams. So two vegan convenience food wonderkids came together to create this beautiful specimen of mediocrity. It’s a crackery crust, a smidge of inoffensive sauce, and a mixture of the two Daiya flavors, complete with the little bits stuck to the bottom of the crust so you have to pick off the frozen shreds before sticking it in the oven. (While I was never a huge cheese fan, there was just something about frozen mozzarella shreds that hit the spot.)

I’ve had a couple of these now—currently Food Fight! is selling them for just over $6 a pop so it’s a reasonable snacky treat or light dinner. (And they just posted today that since April 24 they’ve sold 632 of them—that’s more than 30 a day.) It comes in three varieties: Cheese (the only one I’ve tried), Italian Sausage & Vegetable, and Pepperoni. The package says it serves three, but Tom and I split it in half without feeling stuffed…and my friend Kevin ate one whole pizza as a chaser to a sandwich, but that’s because he has the metabolism of a sea otter.

Food Fight! might still be the only kids around to carry these, but I’m sure they’ll find their way to you sooner or later. Do you need to pick one up? Only if you like stuff that’s cool. Seriously, you’re not going to take a bite and savor it, in an “Oh, that’s so delicious!” way. You’re going to giggle and wolf it down with a carbonated beverage, perhaps a cheap beer. It’s fun. It’s a novelty. It’s friggin’ frozen pizza.

hi mom!

 

That’s me in my mom’s belly! So that’s my mom pregnant, on vacation, on a ladder, pickin’ some California sun-kissed citrus (and those are my dad’s sideburns). I do believe she tried riding some roller coasters on that vacation but The Man kept her down.

I’ve mentioned my mom here a lot: veganizing her recipes, tracing my respect of animal welfare, subtly hinting that I might be pleased if she were to buy me roller skates. I’m happy to say she and my dad have both been–and continue to be–a big part of what I am.

My favorite Mom story has to be from when I was 6 or 7. On my way home from school some kid was misbehaving so the driver made good on his threat to turn the bus around and take us back to school. We were miserable. The parents, meanwhile, were more than a little worried, since the school took for friggin’ ever to call them. Abductions were big news in the early ’80s.

So my mom came to the school to take a bunch of us home…but not until she gave the school superintendent what for. In front of all us kids, she ripped that lady a new one. The superintendent even grabbed my mom’s arm and Mom gave her—along with the laser eyes I inherited from her—the “Don’t you ever touch me again.” Go MamaBear!

It was more than just us watching an authority figure getting chewed out. Somebody was standing up for us, pointing out that we had rights, that we deserved respect. Extrapolate from that what you will.

Happy Mother’s Day, lady. I wouldn’t be the troublemaker I am without you.

Portland actually hosted two bake sales during Worldwide Vegan Bake Sale week, one supporting SPECIEES and one supporting Try Vegan PDX and Vegan Iron Chef. Between the two, more than $1300 was raised. Not too shabby, Portland.

For the SPECIEES one I just dropped off some cookies, but I stuck it out for the afternoon and very chilly evening for the Try Vegan sale. I even made that sweet sign you see up there. Jess at Get Sconed! has more photos (I stole this one from her)—there’s one of us (I’m in the green sweatshirt) trying to keep everything dry during our brief but mighty crappy rainstorm.

It was my first bake sale ever. You see, having weird germ phobias, I don’t eat public food. Can’t pick a piece of cookie out of the bakery sample bowl, can’t stick my hand into a communal bag of chips, can’t share popcorn with a friend. When companies are sampling their wares, if I judge the sampling to be hygenic and fresh (in separate little cups or with toothpicks sticking out) I can do it, probably thanks to health codes and regulations and whatnot. But a bake sale is a big freakin’ crapshoot. Not a problem for most people, but I can’t help but picture finger-licking, cat hair, or worse. Again, it’s my neurosis and I have to live with it.

The health inspector who happened by and tried to shut us down used this sort of reasoning as to why we shouldn’t be able to offer home-baked goods to people who are well aware of the fact that these are home-baked goods. I mean, when you buy stuff from a bunch of chicks on the sidewalk, you’re kinda signing on for that.

What was odd was that the health inspector (after learning we had no eggs or dairy in our goods) agreed to let us sell cookies but said everything else had to go. Whatever. We just moved our contraband to an indoor location until the very end of the night. I checked online for permit information—just what were the rules? Well, apparently it’s impossible to have a legal bake sale in Oregon. Every baker would have to have a kitchen inspection. Un-bloody-likely.

So if you’re on board for next year, find a cause, bake some stuff, use social networking for good, and research your city’s permit requirements…then decide if you can follow them. You bad-ass outlaw baker, you.

xanadu or bust

I am a child of the 70s. If nothing else, that means I wish I could wear roller skates all the time. Sadly, I left my skates behind when we moved from New York—five years ago. Enough is enough, I want new skates!

But if you thought nonleather shoes were tough to find, try skates. There’s a good handful out there, but I’m no pro. I’m not spending $400 on no wheelie shoes. The idea of spending $100 on these Riedell R3s hurts, but I fear the bullet must be bit. (Or I can hope Mom checks out my Amazon wishlist in a particularly generous mood.)

And no, these aren’t the retro boot style that beg for pom-poms on the toes, but until I start designing and manufacturing vegan skates, I gotta take what I can get. And the reviews are pretty damn good so I’ve got high hopes. I just broke out in a sweet little grin imagining myself gliding through Portland with the wind in my pigtails and KC and the Sunshine Band in my heart.

I hate marinating. I’ve said it before, I know, but I hate it so much that I’ll never tire of bitching about it. Unless it’s a special—and I mean special—occasion, I don’t want to have to start prep work on my dinner hours ahead.

This makes tempeh somewhat challenging. Sure, you can do a cheater version of marinating if you add a bunch of liquid at the beginning of your cooking, allowing the tempeh to soak up some flavor, but unless you’re dealing with tiny pieces the flavor never really gets in deep. Two recipes that do work quite well with this are tacos and baked BBQ tempeh. They both take some time over a hot stove/oven, but they’re foolproof and delightful.

OR…you can take a shortcut and pick up some premarinated tempeh strips. I’ve had the Lightlife bacony strips, which never fail for a spontaneous TLT (or TOALT, with onion and avocado). And what you see up there is Turtle Island (the Tofurky people) marinated strips. Sesame garlic. Mmmmm. While the rice is cooking you chop up some peppers, pea pods, carrot, and anything else you can find in the fridge and throw it in the wok with your sizzlin’ tempeh. Ridiculously fast and probably the healthiest thing you’ll eat all week.

I realize I’ve never really talked about brown rice. The fact is when I’m ordering out and brown rice is an option, I will order it nine out of ten times. But when I’m home, I just don’t care enough—except on those special occasions I mentioned earlier—to cook it myself. I will, however, bend to totally wasteful convenience packaging from time to time, splurging on those boxes of frozen brown rice at Trader Joe’s. I curse myself every time, but honestly, it could be worse, and I’m eating more brown rice than I would otherwise. So I’m stuffin’ my sorrys in a sack and I’m gonna keep on doing it. Until I get my act together to cook up a crap-ton of brown rice and freeze it myself, it’s my little indulgence. I’m sure you have yours.

poppy-rock

In preparation for the Worldwide Vegan Bake Sale (ours benefiting Try Vegan PDX/Vegan Iron Chef), I’ve been messin’ about with tasty experiments. Along with the cinnamon sugar cookies I wanted to take poppy seed cake, but you can’t easily sell slices, what with the poppy seed filling squishing out. What to do? Here’s what I did.

Experiment #1: Dumplings. I wrapped dollops of filling in dough and stuck them in a greased mini muffin tin. Sure, they’re super cute, like tiny muffins, but unfortunately, just not enough filling for the dough and any more would just end up an oozy blob. This led me to…

 

 

Experiment #2: Double-decker dumplings. In a regular muffin tin I squashed the dumplings and added another dollop of filling. They spread out a little and the ratio works. It’s a very close runner-up to…


Experiment #3: Cinnamon-rollific. The winner. After rolling out the dough and spreading the filling, I rolled it up and cut into 1½-inch pieces, placing them in a regular muffin tin. I think this works best for a bake sale because the filling isn’t all oozy but you can see what you’re dealing with.

So yeah, kinda nice to have two successes from my two experiments. Let’s see what else I can put together before next week.

They’re Mrs. Fields cinnamon sugar cookies, twice removed. A friend of mine sent me a copycat recipe she found, knowing it would be easy to veganize. Sure was. I’ve never had the original cookie so I can’t tell you how close it is, but it was crazy good. The texture is light and fluffy yet has a tender chew to it. As usual, I used my Penzey’s cinnamon (by far the best cinnamon I’ve had), and I bumped up the salt a little. The recipe is just made for halving, which I always do for trial runs…or when I know something’s going to be so good I won’t stop eating until it’s gone. Both apply to this one—we polished these cookies off in what had to be record time.

I’ve been thinkin’ on what I should bring to the Worldwide Vegan Bake Sale at the end of the month (April 29, at Green Microgym on Alberta, if you’re in Portland and want to support Try Vegan PDX and Vegan Iron Chef), and this might be it. I do have a few more experiments planned between now and then, so we’ll see.

Make ‘em your own self:
Rollin’ sugar
• 3 T sugar
• 1 T cinnamon (don’t scrimp!)

Dough
• 2½ c AP flour
• ½ t baking soda
• ½ t salt
• 1 c brown sugar (the darker the better, for that molassassy kiss)
• ½ c sugar
• 1 c Earth Balance (I used the original tub kind)
• Ener-G egg replacer for 2 eggs
• 2 t vanilla extract (again, go for the good stuff)

Cream EB and sugars with an electric mixer. Add Ener-G and vanilla, then beat until light and fluffy. Add the dry ingredients, which you of course mixed together in a separate bowl, and blend until combined—don’t go overboard. Cover and chill for a bit so it’s easier to roll into balls. Roll in 1-inch balls and coat in your cinnamon-sugar, then place onto an UNgreased cookie sheet about 2 inches apart (these need some elbow room). Bake at 300° for about 20 minutes. Move them immediately onto a sheet of wax paper or cutting board to cool.


Tickets have been on sale for like minutes now, so why haven’t you gotten yours yet? Don’t live in Portland and really can’t afford to visit right now? OK, you get a pass. Everyone else, listen up, then get thee to the Try Vegan PDX site, where you can find more info and buy your ticket. (UPDATE: Oh, I guess you did. We sold out in 5 days!)

This is the first year we’re doing this, and it’s already clear next year will be even bigger. Things are really coming together: contestants, judges, sassy hostesses, DJs, raffle prizes, exhibitors, and it’s all in NW, at 9th & Irving.

One lucky audience member (if you buy your ticket online—now, now, now) will be chosen as a layman judge. A couple of points here:
• If you are under 18, be honest—for liability reasons we cannot have an underage judge.
• If you do not want to be a judge, for public anxiety or food allergy reasons, let us know.
• If you are buying multiple tickets, be sure to enter your companions’ names.

So go now go do it now go now go.

Oh, wait! We still need volunteers, so let me know if you’re interested—just email me at vegtasticvoyage.com. And if you’re a vegan company, crafter, whatever, and want to buy an ad in the program or donate stuff for raffle prizes, also let me know.

And check out the official event page on Facebook.

*and an update!

soycurl tacos

Believe it or not, this is a first for me. Sure, I’ve had soycurl tacos at Taqueria Los Gorditos, but I’ve never made them myself. When we first started making vegan tacos we used TVP, then moved on to LiteLife fakey chicken strips, and now we’ve been using tempeh (recipe here) for quite some time—and loving it. But what if you’re out of tempeh and you still get the hankerin’ for tacos? Those soycurls are just sitting right there in the cabinet, waiting to be rehydrated and spiced and grilled up.

As I have yet to make my big batch of Taco Town, the proprietary blend of spices that I promised to share with you probably a year ago, we just shook a little of this and a little of that, along with Butler’s chickeny soycurl seasoning. You know what was missing? Paprika! We were totally out. I don’t know how that happened. Paprika’s one of my favorite things in this world and I allowed it to disappear? What the hell? I know it doesn’t sound right that a traditionally Hungarian spice should make or break a Mexi-ish dish, but it totally does.

The soycurls were not to blame, but these were some pretty sad tacos, beautiful though they may be. The flavor was just flat. It had spice, it had bite, but it lacked that warm middle ground. If you’ve been making tacos without paprika, then I just have to wonder how you can feel alive. You’re just fooling yourself, man. Get on the paprika bus, ’cause it’s a funky one.

Oh, and let’s hear it for crunchy shells. Makes you feel like a kid again, and not just because you make a huge mess of yourself. There’s delight in that crunch.

 

It’s not deep-dish, more like kiddie-pool-dish, but it’s a start.

I’ve geeked out on Daiya too many times to mention. From grilled cheese to pizza, it’s allowed me to enjoy cheese—or at least the spirit of cheese—something I never really liked in dairy form.

The one thing I thought it would be perfect for was the Chicago deep-dish pizza, and I had on my to-do list a good old-fashioned cornmeal crust, a la Lou Malnati’s (my go-to birthday dinner growing up). I never got around to it, but I did pick up a frozen cornmeal crust to give the concept a test run.

There is a good, solid quarter inch of Daiya on that crust, then the top layer is canned plum tomatoes (most of the liquid squeezed out) squished together with herbs and spices. ‘Cause that’s how we do.

It was just too much. Too rich. Too thick. Too too. I reeeeeeally didn’t need that second piece. Then again, with Chicago-style pizza, you rarely need that second piece. And afterwards you lean back and pat your belly, then say something really mean and sarcastic to someone you love.

So have I lost my tolerance for lead-belly pizza? Or is vegan cheese just not ready yet for the Chicago treatment? You best believe I’ve yet to give up this fight.

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