Grandma's Goulash and the Grueling Question, WHY are you vegan?

I can smell it now.  Grandma's Goulash.  I was about twelve years old when I walked into her kitchen from walking home from school.  There it was coming out of of the oven.  Now, many years later and grandmas since passed, I find myself making Grandma's Goulash with a vegan twist.

I love to cook.  I love to cook meat.  I love to grill.  I love to bake.  Yes, I got that feature from my granny.  Funny thing is, I don't eat meat or consume sugar.  Call me crazy but I have been vegetarian for 22 years, a vegan for three years and have cooked meat all of my life. 

My grandma taught me how to cook and bake a little like this...

A dab of this.

A pinch of that.

Hold your fist out...yes, that is good.

I have most of her recipes.  They are written in pencil.  They are written on backs of old newspapers, books or magazines.  Some are on 3X5 cards but most of them are shared by my mom.  "She would throw this in, add that and then don't forget xxx."  It's always fun when I call mom and ask her, "what did grandma put in her chocolate chip cookies?" and mom says, "well, she really didn't follow a recipe so start with sugar - a lot of it - maybe two and half cups."

Many people ask me why I am vegan.  Or, what does it mean to be vegan or your coloring is so good in your face, you can't possibly go without meat.  Yes, I've heard it all.  Most of the conversation when I meet someone new (or even old friends) is about my diet believe it or not. I think they find it somewhat fascinating and somewhat scary. 

A few remarks and challenges I've heard over the years from strangers and friends:

Really?

You're kidding.

Why?

Are you religious?

You do eat fish don't you? (PS, no!)

Are you nuts?  (PS, no, but I love nuts)

How can you do that - meat was made to be eaten.

I'm going to get you to eat meat - watch.

Do you eat chicken? (PS, no!)

What?  Seriously, I could never do that.  That's sacrilegious.

Why on earth and when do you eat?

What made you do such a silly thing?

Tell me about it.  Now.
Do you eat tofurkey during the holidays? Thanks to my friends Felker, Gaard and Hepworth.

Can I sit down and ask you about it.  I'd like to try it for a few days.

Did you lose weight?

Are you an animal lover?  (PS, why, yes, yes, I am but that has nothing to do with what I ingest into my body, thank you)
And last but definitely not least, did your doctor order it?

I love to talk to people about it. It's actually kind of fun to answer their questions and surprise them with my antics, "I just don't eat things with eyes or parents."  It's quite simple.

Now, back to my version of Grandma's Goulash - veganized - by the way, my granny would roll over if she knew I veganized her recipes.  Just sayin'.

Recipe

Brown a pound of grumblers - yes, they make them in  the frozen section of your local grocer - Morning Star brand (one time I surprised a house guest with grumblers and he had no idea, that made for a big laugh.  PS, he loved the Chinese Oriental Noodle Casserole.)

Boil macaroni noodles with olive oil.  Use gluten free noodles or wheat if you have them.

Stewed tomatoes.

Fresh basil.

Lemon juice.

A can of olives.

One clove of garlic.

Three green onions - chopped.

Pinch of oregono.

Pinch of salt.

 (or for those wanting easy, you can substitute the above ingredients with one jar of Classico - Spicy Tomato, Garlic and Basil)

Mix the sauce with the grumblers. Add the macaroni.  Bake for 20 minutes on 350 degrees. Serve with garlic bread, a nice green salad and your favorite red beverage.

I made enough last night for an army but I was alone so I had lunch today, dinner tonight, lunch tomorrow, dinner, etc.  My coworkers may even get a bite or two. 

Cheers! 

Dear Barb...it's me God

"If someone is not treating you with love and respect, it is a gift if they walk away from you.  If that person doesn't walk away, you will surely endure many years of suffering with him or her.  Walking away may hurt for awhile, but your heart will eventually heal.  Then you can choose what you really want.  You will find that you don't need to trust others as much as you need to trust yourself to make the right choices."

Amen.

Have you really agreed to a personal trainer, Barb?

Since January 1, 2011 I have gone to the gym most days - I may have missed three so far.  Each time, I increase my cardio by 5 minutes or oogle at my calorie counter on the elliptical monster.  I grab weights, work my arms, get comfy with the leg press and pray to the ab machine.  All of this and I still feel like it's just not working.

I woke up last week and said, "you need someone who will push you, make you reach farther, dig deep and find the last ounce of strength you have."  I gave into the pressure of the infomercial last summer and NO, even you can't do it for me Tony Horton of P90X.

Guess what, I signed up for a freebie.  Yes, a freebie appointment with my very own personal killer - uh - oh, I mean personal trainer. His name is Grant.  He is a body builder.  That really doesn't matter because I have no desire to look like him or any other Schwarzenegger wannabe but I do like the idea he knows what to do and how to get there.

My first appointment.

I was ready.

Get on the scale.  

Let me measure you.


How many abs can you do in nine different ways?

Now, let's move to arms.  30 minutes.


Now, let's move to legs.  30 minutes.

End of session.

Care to sign up for additional sessions?

Sucker.

He had me.  Sold me.  He pushed me.  Forced me.  

What are you goals?  Want to get lean?

Want to learn about nutrition?

Reduce your stress?

Done.

I signed the waiver.  Please don't sue me if I kill you.  

Or, if you can't walk up the stairs or you can't sit down or your co-workers laugh at you because you waddle.

Not my fault.

I signed up for three times a week...for now.

I got a text message that afternoon.  "How do your wheels feel, Barb?"

My response.  "Good."

His return text, "Let me know in the morning not right now."

So, the next morning, I got up, actually, fell down.  Picked up my phone and texted my personal trainer, "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up and it's because of you!"

Believe me, I am having fun in a sick sort of way.  Take my advice.

Nothing is free.

What do they have in common: 38 degrees, What about Bob? and cotton kills

It's a nice Friday afternoon.  I beg and plead with my friend Megan to ride her bike outside with me.  Actually, it was her original idea a week before.

I know it's 38 degrees and I know there is a slight flurry in the air.  She texts me twice that day. 

Text #1 - happy hour instead? 

Text #2 - it's snowing.

Each time, I returned the messages with, 

Text #1 - go for it, I won't be joining you

Text #2 - so, we'll be fine.  

Funny thing about the two of us.  We both grew up in Spokane.  We've lived in the four seasons all of our lives.  And, we were both auto parts girls at Schuck's in our early 20s.  I'm quite sure, we can change the oil on our bikes if we needed to but change a flat, we'll we still need some extra lessons on that.

I will tell you I was prepared for the outdoors that day.  My outdoor buddy has taught me well.  How to layer. How to wear clothes. And, how "cotton kills."

We unloaded our bikes, got on the Fish Lake Trail and headed out for a nice 15 mile ride.  I'm pretty sure there was no one else on the trail except a few homeless people sleeping in the trees.  

But, not after we came through.  

That day, we were getting out our pent up frustration, our Friday fiery and our fancy Fuji's (not to be confused with apples) were ready to ride fast.

I love to ride.  Megan is just starting.  I would say instead of LOVE...it's more like LO and after we rode that day, she was off to REI for appropriate gear.  

You see,  she wore $5 half gloves (her fingers were frozen), a Chinese cotton blend coat (remember cotton kills) and her ears were as a red as the first sunburn of the summer season.

There is something you can do when you are cold and you have options.

Ride faster.  

Raise your voice.  

Both.

Yes, yell at the top of your lungs like Bob in What about Bob?  You remember that 1991 movie, where a successful psychiatrist loses his mind after one of his most dependent patients, a highly manipulative obsessive-compulsive, tracks him down during his family vacation. 

Let's just say, Megan and I had Tourette's.  It felt really good.  Better than good. Fantastic even.

So, what do 38 degrees + What about Bob?  + cotton kills have in common =  combined they make a phenomenal stress reliever

Thanks Pigs, I had a great ride.

Hugos on the Hill - a heart of gold

Another stop to a restaurant of character.  Hugos on the south hill of Spokane.  I'd never been there before.  In fact, when I was a kid, it was a bowling alley so to think I was having dinner there was a bit odd but hey, I'll go with it.  Was I surprised when I walked in and they had black jack tables, poker, dance club music and like ol' times, bowling lanes.

Earlier that evening, I had my hair highlighted, a nice blond for the upcoming season (I am quite confident summer is just around the corner).  My hairdresser and friend, Steve, asked me, "where would you like to go for dinner?"  I said, "you pick."  So, we met in the bustling parking lot of the old bowling alley and headed in.

The menu was full of entrees.  None vegan but I did find a pasta dish.  I ordered without mushrooms and when it arrived, I giggled...those dirty little fungi were taking over the plate.  I passed my mushrooms over to Steve and when the waiter came back to check on us and saw me lifting those little guys, he said, "the meal is on us, I am so sorry."

Not only did they go out of their way to accommodate, they brought a little bit of party in my mouth to the table post meal...a chocolate decadent number I couldn't even describe and the manager walked up and handed me a long stemmed red rose.  Yes, a rose, like the TV show, the Bachelor.

I was pleasantly shocked and couldn't believe their service.

This place "rocks" the house and several bonuses come with it...great people watching, bowling leagues and a casino to boot. If they could add roller derby, well, then we're talking.

What more could you ask for within four walls? They have the heart of the customer in focus at all times.

Takin' it on the road - 80s rock style

Friday afternoon, I hopped in my car and got out on the open road.  It was a planned trip, at least in my mind but when I hit the Tri-Cities, I took an exit instead of the road most traveled. I ended up pulling out my GPS, her name is Carmen.  Not to be confused with Carmen San Diego. Carmen is a gem.  She took me to a credit union. Thank goodness, I needed cash and when I looked over the parking lot, there it was, a McDonalds.  A little comfort food - can't go wrong with french fries.

I cruised back on Highway 395.

"We're headed for La Grande, Carmen."  I had never been there before, I don't quite know why.  Every radio station I turned to was 80's butt rock - I'm talking Dokken, Tesla and Quiet Riot.  The locals have one thing in common, cowboy hats and wranglers.

I hit a great basketball game at Eastern Oregon University (I may be bias), my adopted nephew, Anthony Brown, plays for the fighting Mountaineers.  A side note: It was coaches vs. cancer night so their mascot, the mighty Mountaineer had fake boobies and a pink t-shirt.  And, I do have to say, I like their mascot, he could climb with me up a mountain anytime.

The next day, I hit the local Starbucks ($2.45 for my soy steamer) and proceeded up the Blue Mountain range to Walla Walla.  The town they loved so much they named it twice.  Before I share that trip with you, I stopped at the Wild Horse Resort and Casino.  Mom, I promise I didn't gamble but I did use the facilities and watched the woman behind the counter selling plastic roses for Valentine's Day.  Believe it or not, they were almost sold out!

I made my way through Milton-Freewater.  A town with so many statues of frogs, I dreamt about Kermit that night (not Ms. Piggy...just Kermit).


I made it to the banana belt of Washington and the rolling fields of wine country...Walla Walla, it was a balmy 65 degrees.  There is a bit of controversy going on there...is a purple Octopus art or a sign?  I think it's only a sign if it was born in the astrological world of Sagittarius.  I'll go on record, even though I'm an outsider...this animal is a piece of art.  Take a peek:
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2012976429_apwagiantpurpleoctopus.html

I enjoyed the wine tasting and thanks to my friends who gave me several to visit but how can one get through 100 wineries in one Saturday?  You start with one and then come back for more.  Walla Walla knows how to create addict tourists.

I had lunch at Olive's, I promise I didn't drop anything in their kitchen from the cat walk above but it was quite fun to plot in my mind.

And, so, the tour begins, by the way, "it's hip to spit." 

Seven Hills was the first on the walkabout

Tero Estates

Flying Trout Wines

Don Carlo Vineyard and Locati Cellars

Rotie

Damnation - which isn't really the name (it's Da Ma) but these gals were fun.  I had to buy the Cowgirl Cab!  It was an excuse to get a red wine bag for another bottle I bought right before that visit.

Sapolil (with a little music from Portland, Oregon - Raleigh Tussing & The Diminished 7)

Vintage Cellars 

Oh, and believe it or not in between all of that I watched a roller derby - the Lilac City girls were there from Spokane (YES - a roller derby like the 70s) and a Whitman College basketball game.  Side note #2: The students have school spirit, they chant, "Missionaries, Missionaries, we're on top!"

After all that, I had a suite reserved at the Marcus Whitman.  Ready for some Zzzzz.

Next morning, I walked to the local Starbucks, $2.99 for my iced soy and I'm on my way.

Of course, I hit the one light in Dayton and had to stop for a tractor...no kidding.

And my friends, there's nothing like eastern Oregon and eastern Washington.

Starbucks Soy Steamers - deal? no deal?

Most of you know by now, I am vegan.  Vegan is defined as:  the practice of eliminating the use by human beings of non-human animal products. AKA - no dairy!

I love a jaunt to the local coffee bar.  I love the atmosphere.  I love the camaraderie. In fact, I've chosen a drink that pretty much feels my inner spirit of a coffee drinker...a soy steamer.  You heard it correctly, steamed soy milk.  Yes, it's quite simple, steamed soy.

If I was to go into the grocery store and buy a half gallon, it would be $2.37.  Yes, you heard me correctly, $2.37 for a half gallon but on my many travels particularly from Portland, Oregon to Spokane, Washington - many times between 2007 and 2009, I've ordered these scrumptious drinks and have been appalled and somewhat amazed at the price difference I've been quoted at the counters of Starbucks by the Barista's for a grande and sometimes a tall soy steamer.

Most of the time, when I pull up to the drive thru, like the other day at a Post Falls, Idaho Starbucks, the person on the other end says, "huh, what, can you repeat that?!"  Granted, it's not a coffee or a half frap, minus whip with a shot of decaf double and a sprinkle of chocolate but heck it's a soy steamer.  Again, fairly simple.  When I drove up to the cashier, I couldn't believe my receipt, $4.37.  WOW.  Those Idaho folks, they know how to maintain their dairy farms.

The Barista always says, "so, you'd like a soy latte?" "No." I'd say, "I would like a soy steamer."  Sometimes, when I'm feeling frisky, I order a soy steamer with a shot of sugar free cinnamon dolce.  That really get's them.  Most of the time I hear, "so, you'd like a soy with a double pump of a cinnamon dolce latte."  Again, I repeat, "no."

So, I decided to test the water of our local Starbucks to see what they charge for a tall soy steamer.  I think you'll find it comical and somewhat sad.  BTW, I have the receipts.

Portland Starbucks - $2.45

Hillsboro Starbucks - $3.15

The Dalles Starbucks - $2.75

Kennewick Starbucks - $3.15

Ritzville Starbucks - $.75 (YES, .75 cents)

Spokane Starbucks - $2.45 but it can range in this city from $1.50 to $3.50

Liberty Lake Starbucks - $2.45

Post Falls Starbucks - $4.37

Fashion diva I am not but I sure had fun trying

You know that game you've played at work for an icebreaker, two truths and a lie. Well, I've got one for you..."I've been a runway model.  I've climbed Mt. Hood.  I played the saxophone."

Do you know me well?  If so, the lie is..."I played the saxophone."  I actually played the piano and the trumpet and believe it or not I got an "A" in choir.  You wouldn't know it now, I scare myself in the shower when I sing.

Yesterday, I was a runway model.  OKAY, that may be overstating it a bit but I modeled for Spokane's 3rd annual Be Comfortable in Your Genes fashion show benefiting the Inland Northwest Coalition on Eating Disorders.

I had no idea how tough it was to model.  It appears so easy when you watch it on TV.

My 8 hour day began at noon.  There were 38 of us.  We were not trained...whatsoever.  It was quite obvious.  Had someone walked by the banquet room we were in, they would have wondered it we were learning how to walk.  We giggled.  Joked.  Laughed at ourselves and laughed at each other.

When our leader, Brittany, said, "I need 15 of you for hair and make up," I jumped up.  Actually, there were three of us that stood out from the crowd.  You see, we like our Dansko's, our jeans, our t-shirts.  But, today...we were products of Banana Republic, White House/Black Market and Chico's.  We had to wear two of their outfits (prior fittings proved successful - one of us was at our store for over an hour). 

We jetted up the stairs to the Paul Mitchell Design Team.  Lexie was assigned to me.  Bless her heart.  She loved doing hair but makeup was not her forte.  However, their instructors were there and she learned quite quickly, that she too had to do my makeup.  Two hours later (I won't take it personally), we were downstairs practicing the walk, the pose, the choreographed routine.  We ran through it over and over.  I actually, dreamt about it last night. 

Finally, the music got loud.  The energy became nervous.  The time had come.  Fourteen women in each dressing room.  The small group of male models were close enough to hear us and yelled from their room, "are we having fun, yet?" Clothes strewn everywhere. Some of us had flat shoes.  Some, like me, had 5 inch heels.  My friend Laurel had zip up numbers.  Whoo hoo, very hot.  And, Renee, she looked so conservative but the black sandals and red toes took it to the middle of liberal.

The 300 people in the crowd were ready to see the fashions of 2011.  So, we all took a deep breath. We had to remember who was where and in front of and who and who was behind us.  We were to have fun.  Slap high fives.  Do the bump. Work it like Zoolander.  Oh yeah, work it. 

Well, we did.  Guests got into it.  Great music.  Fun models.  We were sassy.

Our third runway responsibility, change into our jeans and white t-shirts.  No shoes.  We grabbed powerful signs and walked out on stage.  Tears were seen in the crowd.  Not tears of joy but tears of sadness.  You see...

• It is estimated that 8 million Americans have an eating disorder – seven million women and one million men
• One in 200 American women suffers from anorexia
• Two in 100 American women suffers from bulimia
• 9 year old girls are dieting
• An estimated 10 – 15% of people with anorexia or bulimia are males 

Yes, this was a cause we were modeling for.  

A cause that when we went to the microphone to introduce ourselves to the crowd meant, "I am 40 years old and I am comfortable in my genes because when my mom and dad made me, they made a limited edition and I am proud to be me."

Thank you, Erin,  for your powerful story and your courage to share.

I met some wonderful people.  I learned about a wonderful cause and I enjoyed my time so much, I would love to be invited back next year. 

://www.thelincolncenterspokane.com/BookingRetrieve.aspx?ID=122116

You have to check out the big "O"

Spokane + Washington + Community College + One of the best restaurants around +Accommodating+  Customer focused + Bakery + Good parking +Vegan friendly = Orlando's

It's 11:30, Wednesday morning.  I have an appointment with three other people.  Where am I going?  I know Spokane.  Very well.  I drive on the streets everyday.  In fact, I know most of the pot holes intimately.

I look at my calendar, am I at the correct place?  I am in the parking lot of Community Colleges of Spokane.  Parking meters, just like downtown...nothing new.  I plug my meter and walk inside. Takes me back to my high school days at West Valley.  Classes are just getting out (I can hear the bell ring).  Then, there it is...the beautiful smell of baked bread, fresh cookies and pastries out of the oven.  I walk inside...take a peek.  The friendly students say hello and ask if I would like something.  I quickly respond, "Oh, I'll be back."  I exit and there it is across the hall....Orlando's.

Is it beef tartar on the menu?  No, it's beet tartar.  I tell them I am vegan.  "No problem!"  Joshua Newkirk rocks - a student at CCCS.

No mushrooms (like Clinkerdagger's).  Remember, I don't like fungi. One hour later...one of the best lemon tofu beauties I've ever eaten.

The service was fabulous.  The students kind.  Whether they are in the hospitality program or the culinary program...these students know how to do it right.  Award winning I say.  Award winning.

So, if you have have a little more time over lunch.  Check it out.  You'll love the big O!


http://www.scc.spokane.edu/?culorl