The Garbage Bowl

Rachael Ray always has a bowl nearby while cooking that she calls her "garbage bowl."  She even has identical bowls for sale in her Rachael Ray line of cookware.  Honestly, I can just take a plastic bowl from our plasticware cabinet and it would do just fine.  Or better yet, I'll throw everything directly into the trash and save some soap and water.

But the idea is that everything goes into this garbage bowl.  So much has gone on in a seemingly short period of time that I couldn't decide what to post first.  It seemed silly to post several items in a row--why make my readers feel bombarded by blog?  So, I give you my written version of a garbage bowl.

Trash #1
My family is quite liberal, generally speaking.  My immediate family is definitely liberal.  My dad and I you can easily call progressive and active and political.  My dad, however, can't get politics off the mind and listens to pundit radio, watches pundit TV, and has been known to live and breathe politics.  I'm not far behind, but I have too much on my mind to devote my life to politics.  (But what isn't political these days?).  Anyhow, to get to the point, my dad is a HUGE fan of Thom Hartmann, a progressive radio personality.  I often listen to Thom while in the car with my dad.  He's very smart and not too imposing like many similar people can be.

Last week Thom Hartmann had a dinner for a small number (less than 100) of his fans that was based around the idea of local and sustainable food and living.  Knowing that was right up my alley (I'm all full of cliches today) my dad invited me to tag along.  We dressed all nice for our adorable father-daughter date and headed into the city.  My dad repeated to me that not only is Thom Hartmann a celiac patient, but he is vegan as well.  We both assumed the vegetarian option for dinner would be vegan friendly.  My dad's biggest worry was that he'd be the only meat eater present.

Only half of the main course was vegan.  I ate a single stuffed cabbage leaf armored with garlic cloves the entire night.  I had some wine (unsure if it was vegan).  A cheese maker helped to sponsor the dinner as well as the radio station.  When my dad asked if there was anything at all I could have for dessert, a caterer left to find out and never came back.  My mom later scolded (and by scolded I mean tsk'd me lightly) for not asking myself and not continuing to ask until I got an answer.  My dad defended his statement that Thom is a vegan until we went back into the car when he decided maybe he was wrong after all.  What did Thom eat?  Did they make something special just for him?  That would be silly.  At least that's the way I saw it.  The next day I found out my dad had paid for the dinner and I still feel pretty terrible.  If I had known, I would have sent my mom along with him although she probably would not have appreciated the topics as much.  Hearing Thom speak did make it worth the trip.  He's written several books and is still on the radio.  He's worth looking up (beyond politics he talks about global warming, food, and other interesting things.  He's currently rewriting a book based on the original case which brought about this whole corporate-personhood mumbo jumbo).

Trash #2
The other day I made a faux meatloaf from a recipe in the latest Vegetarian Times issue.  It uses tempeh and oatmeal.  Aside from the process being slightly more involved and messy than I exepcted, it turned out really well.  It doesn't taste like meatloaf (not that I would remember, my mom stopped making meatloaf well before I became a vegetarian) but it is good.  The rest of the loaf is in the freezer for later consumption.  If I didn't know the point value of a serving, I would have eaten half of the loaf in one sitting (and considering the sensitivity of my digestive track, that would have been ugly).  It feels really good to make a real meal for myself.  That means no meatless hotdog in the toaster-oven for a few minutes as a substitute for whatever meat the parents are having.  This was real.

Trash #3
Every night my mom and I sit down to the news before dinner.  We usually watch World News on ABC followed by the local news and Wheel of Fortune.  We love Wheel of Fortune.  This week on World News, Diane Sawyer did a short piece previewing what would be shown on Nightline later that day.  It was a piece on the horrors and truths of the dairy business.  The piece showed some of the less graphic images, but my stomach still churned.  I didn't say a word the entire couple of minutes this went on, reporter voice telling my mother and I about perpetually pregnant cows, docking tails, and feces.  Not even the worst of what I read leading me to give up dairy, although that alone would do it.  I didn't say anything to my mom about it even hours later.  I still haven't and I probably won't.  It is enough for me that she saw what she did.  I'm glad she finally knows a little bit of why I'm doing what I do.  If you recall from previous posts, my mom didn't want to know the truth about dairy farming.  She wanted to eat cheese in ignorance like most people and I respected that and left her alone.  The only problem was that she was clueless as to why I wouldn't even eat dairy once a week for protein and calcium.  It really bothered her.  I think she's accepting it now, but after that clip she won't have much wondering to do anymore.  If anybody is interested, I'm sure both shows have links to information on their websites, but don't take my word for it.  I haven't gone to look for myself.  Just remembering the faces of those cows makes my stomach spit extra acid.


I'll leave it at that for now.  Happy Hump Day!