Putting the finishing touches on the salad

Thank you so much to everyone who came to the Let Live Conference benefit dinner and to everyone who helped prepare and serve it. Especially Katie and Jessie from Sweetpea and Lisa for lending the kitchen to us for the night. I learned so much about my cohorts. Like that Katie can lift the heaviest pans in the world, as if they are cars and her babies are trapped under there. And Emiko either really loves doing dishes or has a strong work ethic. It was really gratifying to work with such goddam competent people! Dinner went off without a hitch (except for a small grease fire) and I think a good time was had by all. I actually didn’t get enough pics of the food, but one of the diners, veganaddict, got shots of everything! If anyone else got pics let me know. I got some pics of us working on stuff on other ephemera here. Edited to add: Jess of Get Sconed has a wrap up on her blog, thanks Jess!

Katie and the brownie batter

And now down to business. This weekend the actual conference is happening and I am so excited about it! All of the workshops and speakers look incredibly enticing. And I don’t just say that because I am one of them, check these out: Organizing Grassroots Groups with Lauren Ornelas, Nathan Runkle and J. Johnson (because sometimes we’re sitting around with our friends doing nothing), Solo Activism with Veda Stram and Mark Hawthorne (cause sometimes we have no vegan friends!), Verbal Self Defense with Pulin Modi (because sometimes people are mean), Becoming the Media and Getting Creative with Jessie Duquette, Glenn Goetz Gaetz and one Josh Hooten (because making our own media is fun!), Researching Animal Abuse with Peter Young and Nathan Runkle (because information is power and Peter Young is cute!), Exposing the Green Scare with Will Potter, Lauren Regan and David Hayden (because skateboarding shouldn’t be a crime, but driving a car should! And I’m sure all the presenters are cute, too.) Food Fight has posted the entire schedule in PDFs in both long and short formats. Check them out and register today!

My workshop on culinary activism will be on Sunday at 2:30 in room 238. I hope to see you there!

Recipe plagiarism has been been burning up the internet lately, be it in the form of a VegWeb member submitting other people’s internet recipes as her own, or Cindy McCain claiming that a recipe from Hersheys.com were from a friend.

Copyright infringement and plagiarism aren’t the same exact thing, although it seems that here Cindy McCain has committed both crimes. The less interesting part is the legal stuff; that you can’t copyright food ingredients. Even if our recipes are identical in quantity, as long as the words were changed around a bit it’s fine because words, obviously, can be copyrighted. But the social ramifications go deeper. Taking someone else’s recipe and giving it a phony back story is frowned upon, whether the story is that you created it after having a feverish dream about butterscotch or that it was passed down a few generations. But it got me wondering, are these fibs particular to food? People don’t seem to lie as much about other things, like knitting or blacksmithing. Why do people lie about recipes so much? I don’t just mean bloggers who “forget” to attribute their recipes to someone else, or “forget” to mention that their entire knowledge of swiss chard is coming straight from Wikipedia.

For instance, my mom insists that certain things are “family recipes.” Like these tofu balls we’ve been making since I was a teenager. They are our tofu balls! We’ve eaten them for birthdays, we’ve rolled their little bodies between our palms after arguments, we’ve smothered them in sauce through the ages, since the eighties, and so they are ours. Well, yes. And no. They are from the Tofu Cookery. It was our first vegan cookbook, it was the first meal we cooked as a family and I can remember the day my mom came home with it and we passed it around, folding over pages, deciding what to make and finally coming to consensus on the tofu balls. My sister is now feeding them to her children and making a little gastronomical imprint in their psyches. For the whole of their lives, a whiff of these in the skillet is going to make them feel like they’re home. So, yeah, it really is a family recipe even if we didn’t invent it. But I think the truth is much more interesting than saying we made it up or it was passed down from our vegan Russian great great grandma.

On top of spaghetti…a pack of lies?

But why is my mom ashamed of admitting that it comes from Louise Hagler’s cookbook? That’s sort of a rhetorical question, and I think the answer would be really interesting so I wish I could give it to you. Why did Cindy McCain say that her Passion Fruit Mousse was a family recipe? Why didn’t she say she got it out of Better Homes and Gardens or where ever? Or even worse, that her people got it out of Better Homes and Gardens. It’s as if we all intuitively know this secret, but we don’t know what it is. Something about how our recipes make us seem, what they say about us. Would you rather have fresh baked cookies from someone who visits Hersheys.com or by someone who has a friend with a collection of vintage salt and pepper shaker and a box of recipes that goes back to the civil war? The cookies should taste the same either way, right? The fact that they don’t makes me think that there’s a secret ingredient here that’s a lot more esoteric than “nutmeg.”

My friend Brian (a PPK mod and medieval food historian) started a list of Spanish language vegan food blogs on the PPK forums and it got me really excited. Since he didn’t post it on his blog, I’m exploiting his mistake and posting them here.

Empanadillas de algas from El Delantal Verde

El Delantal Verde
Sin Huevo
Veganatura
Rincón Vegano
Gastronomía Vegana
Recetas Veganas (Spanish and English)

As American vegans and foodies life can get kind of insular and we often need to go to “the other side” for inspiration from other countries. These blogs kinda flung the doors wide open for me and my awful awful Spanish that is 80% curse words. Post more if you know of any!

I was recently the victim of a bad potluck. Well, in sense, a potluck is a success if everyone shows up and has a good time. But only in a sense. The true measure of success is how stuffed you get and how many leftovers there were. But what happened at this one was by the time I was done putting out the food, there wasn’t really enough of anything left for me to put together a decent plate.

So, yeah, a few potluck rules of thumb.

1) Coordinate with others so that not everyone is bringing sweets.

2) There has to be at least one lasagna.

3) Bring your A-game, spend a few hours in the kitchen, now is the time to impress, not to cut corners.

4) Bring something! And not a little bag of chips, either. If you absolutely can not cook something, then call the host and see what is needed - drinks, fresh fruit. Something. But if more than a few people are doing this, that makes for a crappy potluck.

5) Don’t plan on cooking at the host’s house. What the hell is that about? If you have to do that, then call the host and see that it’s okay. Warming up is absolutely permitted, but preparing your whole dish there without warning? No. Just no, never, no.

6) Bring big portions. Some people have said they bring enough for 6, but why? Is it really that much harder to cook for 12? Like I said, now is the time to go all out. Make time in your schedule, prioritize the potluck. Mean business!

7) Help the host clean up. Or at least offer to. They will probably say no.

8- The host should not be doing most of the cooking. As the host it’s your job to really bring it because it’s your kitchen, but it isn’t your job to bring…all of it.

Potlucks are so easy! I didn’t even realize that any rules were needed for one. But I guess I struck the jackpot of potluck faux pas here in Portland. I mean, bring a bunch of something delicious. Now is the time to break out the comfort food; the mac and cheese, the tamale pie, the BBQ tofu, the potato salad. It’s not the time to wow the crowd with the latest in sliced cucumbers. Unless they’re accompanied by a tupperware full of roasted garlic hummus, then we’re good.

Okay, done bisqueing. Now I want to share a great potluck dish that is going to be in the upcoming brunch book. It’s a quiche!

Everything about quiche is appealing, from its spelling (it’s got a Q!) to its shape (it’s a pie!) to its color (who doesn’t love the seventies?) I also like that it’s delicious served at room temperature and reheats wonderfully, so it’s perfect for a potluck. It doubles well, too. I’ve been using these great prepared spelt crusts from New Seasons here in Portland, but you can use whatever crust you like. It’s wheat free if you have a wheat free crust. It’s a tofu base and cashews make it deliciously creamy.

I love using baby tomatoes of any sort to decorate the quiche with. While they do taste great baked, my main objective is to bring a little color to the dish. You can also use thinly sliced tomatoes, red pepper rings or roasted red peppers.

Tip: The broccoli pieces should be tiny, anywhere between the size of a pea to the size of a dime. As you chop, the florets might become crumbs. That’s just fine! Scrape them up with your knife and use them.

Classic Broccoli Quiche

Serves 8

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion, finely chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 cups finely chopped broccoli (see note)
1 teaspoons dried thyme
1/2 teaspoon dried tarragon
1/2 teaspoon tumeric
1 teaspoon salt
healthy dose fresh cracked black pepper
2 tablespoons water
1/2 cup raw, unsalted cashews
1 pound extra firm tofu
1 teaspoon prepared mustard (dijon or regular, most anything will work)
a handful or cherry or grape tomatoes for decorating (optional)

1 9 inch prepared pie crust

Preheat oven to 350 F. Bake pie crust for 10 minutes, then remove from oven. In the meantime, start preparing the filling.

Heat a large heavy bottomed skillet (preferably cast iron) over medium heat. Saute the onion and garlic in the oil for about 3 minutes. Add the broccoli, thyme, tarragon, tumeric, salt and pepper. Cook for 10 minutes, until broccoli is soft. If it starts to look dry add a tablepoon or 2 of water.

Meanwhile, process the cashews in a food processor into fine crumbs. Give the tofu a squeeze to get rid of some of the water, then crumble it into the food processor along with the mustard. Process until relatively smooth. When the broccoli mixture is done cooking, add one cup of it to the food processor and pulse a few times to combine.

Transfer to a mixing bowl, add the rest of the broccoli mixture and combine. Taste for salt. Use a rubber spatula to get everything into the pie crust and smooth the top out. Place cherry tomatoes around the perimeter of the pie and one in the center for maximum Good Housekeeping adorableness. Bake for 40 minutes, until edges of the pie are lightly browned.

I suggest letting the quiche sit for 20 minutes before you dig in. I think it tastes best when it is moderately warm, not piping hot. It’s also great at room temperature.

EDIT: This event has sold out, thanks everyone! 

There’s only 5 tickets left at the community table for the Let Live benefit dinner. Stop shuffling your feet! Get in there so that Jason Das has someone to sit with.

Fizzle says not to miss this!

EDIT: This event has sold out, thanks everyone! 

Join me at Sweetpea Bakery for a 4 course dinner to benefit Portland’s Let Live Animal Rights Conference. A few Sweetpea staffers and I will be transforming the bakery into a candlelit bistro for the evening and serving a seasonal, organic, intimate, four course vegan dinner for 40. I’ll even be using herbs from my garden, that’s how local we do. Please see all the info below the menu for ticket purchasing info, and I bet any other questions you have will be answered. If not, then email me at postpunkkitchen@gmail.com. Thanks everyone, I’m excited to cook for you and I hope to see you there.

Menu

Soup
Spicy Cream of Sweet Potato with Lime
A creamy puree of sweet potatoes and a little parsnip, with a kick of lime and chili

Salad
Jicama Salad in Citrus Vinaigrette
A Thai inspired salad of crisp, sweet jicama in a tangy vinaigrette of orange, lemon and grapefruit. Served with grilled and chilled asparagus and garnished with beansprouts, cilantro and roasted peanuts

Main
Blackened Seitan With Corn Pudding And Chocolate Chili Mole
Cajun rubbed blackened homemade seitan and grilled zucchini over a sweet and savory creamy corn pudding, with a mild chocolate chili mole

Dessert
Raspberry Brownie And Vanilla Ice Cream
A warm raspberry brownie with chocolate drizzle, raspberry sauce and vanilla ice cream

Homemade ginger lemonade will be served. Please bring your own beer and wine.

When:
Wednesday, June 18th. Please arrive between 7pm and 7:30, dinner will be served at 8pm.

Where:
Sweetpea Bakery
1205 SE Stark off SE 12th Ave
Google Map

Ticket Prices
Since seating limited, you must buy tickets in advance to attend the night’s festivities. Tickets are a sliding scale, from 40 to 100 dollars. Diners who pay 100 dollars will receive a signed copy of my cookbook, Veganomicon. All proceeds go to The Let Live Conference, and anything left over will go towards local grassroots vegan organizations.

To Purchase Tickets
To purchase tickets, paypal 40 to 100 dollars. Print out your thank you email, this will be your ticket when you arrive to the dinner.

Seating
If you are buying tickets for more than yourself, please put their names in the paypal comments and a table will be arranged for you. If you would like to sit with people in addition to the ones you are purchasing tickets for, please put their names in the comments as well, and let me know that you want to sit with them. If you are flying solo, you may end up sitting with strangers. But we promise that they will be fascinating strangers.

Allergies And Substitutions
If you require a gluten free dinner, your entree will change to tofu and your dessert will change to a gluten free brownie. If you have a peanut allergy, the peanuts in your salad will be replaced with cashews. Please email me at postpunkkitchen@gmail.com if you have any other questions. You must put your dietary concerns in the paypal comments in order to be accommodated.

Alcohol
Please bring your own beer and wine.

Any other questions? Just email me! postpunkkitchen@gmail.com. Thanks!

Despite my Brooklyn Jewish roots, I’ve never been to Florida. But next March I am going to do some cooking classes on this Taste Of Health cruise. I’m not suggesting any one should take the cruise for that reason, I’m just saying that the reason I said yes was so I could meat meet Dirk Benedict from the A-Team. If only everyone had their priorities so straight.

From the list of presenters…will he be making gluten free cupcakes with me?

Hey everyone. I, like, couldn’t log in to the blog for some reason. Swear to god. But now I can, and just in time to let you know that there is a new episode of mine and Josh’s podcast - Naked Vaygun! Go git em.

Join Suzy Spoon and Tracy Smith in Australia for their show The Iron Deficient Chef. It’s a little bit cooking and a little bit learning and a lot bit awesome.

In the latest episode, Not Chickens, we see how to make a curry with Sri Lankan “cooking guru” Kanaga and we learn about the life of “broiler” hens.

Check out more episodes at their website! And for more info about chickens and why we shouldn’t eat them, visit United Poultry Concerns.

Let’s just get the rain out of the way. The weather here is like a three year old tap dancing; completely spastic, rain falls in jerks and starts, the temperature drops ten degrees, you pull down your hoodie, then five minutes later you need to take it off completely, it dries out wrapped around your waist. Then comes the hail. And my feet have been consistently freezing since I arrived. But there’s a reason everyone lies to you and tells you it’s not that bad, something that makes Portland worth it. And that reason, dear reader, is unicorns. The unicorns here in Portland are phenomenal. And everyone gets one.

I don’t know if it’s the unicorn magic (we’re not supposed to talk about it) or the chilly weather, but my cooking has gotten a new lease on life. In Brooklyn I was feeling cramped physically and mentally, unable to roll out a dough or a new recipe. I was relying on my stand-bys, which often included Chinese food from the number on my kitchen calendar. But since I’ve arrived in Portland I’ve cooked every night, and not just to blog about it (which is why you’ll find no recipes or overly staged photos) but to cook. Just to cook! That was something I had lost in the mix. And the last thing I need is for this thing I love to become a source of stress, or worse yet, a chore.

Everything changes when you are cooking to make a recipe, and since I started with this cookbook business I realize how naive I was to not see the difference immediately. There’s an art to recipe writing that isn’t necessarily apparent when you are merely cooking. When you cook you can rely wholly on your senses. A steamy inhale, blowing down a spoon for a taste. A little of this, a splash, a sprinkle, a shake. The music’s on, the window is open, the cats are at your feet and you can smell the garlic two flights down when you walk into the building. “What’s in it?” My friends used to make fun of me when I would answer, “Spices and things.” But that’s how it was, who knows? Why talk about it? Why ruin things with the mundane drabbery of this earthly plane? Just eat. Who wants to break the magic by bringing in modern technology like teaspoons, blenders and google searches? No, just eat.

Enter Amazon stats and kiss it all goodbye. A scrapped piece of printer paper taped to the fridge, a sharpie that seems to never hold enough ink, and an ever watchful eye on the kitchen timer: that’s recipe writing. Gone is “a little of this” and in comes “how the hell many tablespoons was that?” Forget plopping everything onto a plate with a serving spoon and a come and get it. Now it’s straight to the photo set up, pastel backdrop in place. Then to the computer to type it all out, lest you forget just how long you left the lid on and a recipe is lost. And there is fun in that, there is satisfaction and of course, it’s a small price to pay for, god, all your dreams coming true. But.

It hurts your cooking. It changes everything. It tames you. It makes your already tiny kitchen tinier still. And (I’ll switch from second person narration into first now) I need to be free. I guess that’s what I’m saying. Mel Gibson didn’t completely kill freedom, did he?

A completely unstaged photo of a white lasagna I made, with gingered lime sweet potatoes and a cashew cream sauce. Garnished in a completely realistic manner with cilantro.

An inside shot and a side of garlicky kale, it’s easy to eat local in Portland.