I beg your pardon, but bacon is most certainly meat…

Some dinnertime musings…

So, I was at this wedding once and was about to pick up a beautiful little stuffed tomato to put on my plate. Since the caterer was restocking another dish nearby, I asked if the stuffed tomatoes were stuffed with meat.

“No, no,” she insisted. “No meat. Just some bacon.”

Such little differences of opinion have arisen often since I dropped meat from my diet almost four years ago. Bacon bits, shrimp, unidentifiable fish bits; all have been offered to me with the sweet assurance of being non-meat cuisine.  It seems that certain “cuts” of meatiness have found their way into an amorphous category of foods defined simply by their function (i.e. topping, stuffing, garnish), not their substance.

I’ve learned to just say “no” in these questionable situations.

More often than false assurance, though, I’ve encountered a perplexed response to this oh-so-ancient modus operandi. (Pythagoras and Plato were both veggie-heads, BTW).

“But,” they protest in disbelief, “If you don’t eat meat, what do you eat?”

The tone in this query is usually heavy with displeasure and, dare I add, accusation. My assuredly pathological approach to diet is more than questionable; it is absurd. What is a meal without meat?

“Good point,” I want to respond whilst munching on a carrot, “Clearly there are no food options that do not come from a Tyson plant or Swanson traveling steak truck.” Crunch, crunch.

But I resist falling prey to the allure of sarcasm…most of the time…

Then, of course, there is the assumption that I’m a tree hugging-bongo playing-grass eating-hemp snuffing-protestcentric-obnoxiously mouthy t-shirt wearing-one shower a week-hippie.

(Of course, I suppose all the yoga doesn’t help)…

Now, I have to add that I’ve encountered criticism and disdain from other vegetarians/vegans too. Regardless of how much I eliminate from my dinner plate, I am “encouraged” to make further cuts. It appears, for example, that I really should make my dogs eat a vegan diet, sermonizes crazy lady in local field-of-greens store.

“Ok then,” I think to myself, “I’ll let you explain this option to my dogs. Let me know how it goes.”

I have since decided that criticism is to be had whether one consumes an almond flaxseed burger or roadkill. Some folks seem to be under the impression that they have some sort of stake (pun absolutely intended) in others’ plates.

There is also the strange phenomenon of the unclassified edibles. That I simply cannot comprehend.

“Excuse me, miss, but bacon is most certainly meat.”

~Arrivederci

p.s. Can you imagine if I told people I don’t eat butter or margarine? The horror!

I burnt my amaranth trying to pop it…

I am taking a brief departure from posting on my three main pursuits, but for a good cause. As my family and friends know, I have been a vegetarian for almost four years and have dabbled in a vegan diet for the last eight months. This weekend, I started easing myself into what will hopefully be a full-blown-hippy-granola-soaking seeds-sippin’ wheat grass vegan lifestyle (at least in terms of food consumption). Eating vegan fare has been a tough goal to achieve thus far, primarily because of my love for strong cheddar, salty feta, and creamy brie…(distraction)…but I am now most determined to reintroduce myself to the foods that manage to exist without being zapped of their nutritional core and pumped with table salt and sugar.

Hello unpackaged vegetables. Buona sera bulk grains.

My inspiration and determination came from reading the first few chapters of Brendan Brazier’s Thrive: The Vegan Nutrition Guide to Optimal Performance in Sports and Life. My academic roots drew me to the colon in this very impressive title, a punctuation mark so very familiar in my “scholarly” reading. Brazier himself is a healthy dose of effective ethos as well. He is a professional tri-athlete and Ironman competitor who began researching and experimenting with a vegan diet at the age of 15 (I, however, think I still climbed trees at 15). Since high school, Brazier has developed a sustainable (in all the possible connotations of the word) culinary vegan lifestyle designed for optimum health without collapsing into a gaunt tree-hugger with a protruding collarbone.

His diet is so effective, in fact, that Hugh Jackman wrote the forward to Brazier’s book after following the program while bulking up to play Wolverine for X-Men Origins. (Incidentally, according to sources, Jackman’s workout regime also consisted of much yoga and pilates. Take note boys.) Putting on another 20 pounds of lean muscle for the film “normally would mean a LOT of animal protein and synthetic protein powders,” Jackman writes, “While this worked in the past, I knew it wasn’t sustainable, that at some point my body (and probably my heart) would rebel. Not to mention that I often felt lethargic from eating so many hard to digest calories. Then there were the ethical considerations of the diet-environmental impact being the largest one.” Clearly, Brazier’s menu consisting of PH-balanced, nutrient-rich foods along with Jackman’s intense workout schedule produced the desired results (see accompanying image).

Wolverine has always been my favorite X-Men character, and kudus to Jackman for his portrayal of this feral biker dude, but my goals are slightly different. I don’t need any more mass, just for the mass I have to change from flabby-fluff to toned and taught. I would also really like to stop craving Cape Cod Salt and Vinegar Chips, white queso dip, and relying on coffee for energy.

So, I invested in this endeavor. I spent an hour in a grocery store called Earth Fare with a page-protected, color-coded list labeled “Week One,” loading my cart with hemp oil, adzuki beans, sesame seeds (hulled and unhulled), ground flaxseed, hemp protein powder (raw form), and green leafy things. I conveniently already had some of the necessary ingredients at home from all of my previous flirtations with a vegan diet, such as amaranth, quinoa, almond milk, and agave nectar. Amazon’s grocery section is supplying the raw cocao nibs and yerba mate.

Yesterday, my husband and I had Almond Flaxseed Burgers with a Sweet Pepper Pesto sauce and mixed greens on the side for dinner. This morning, I fueled up with a Banana Pear Ginger smoothie for breakfast, green salad with Cayenne Dill dressing for lunch, and tonight’s supper will feature an Adzuki Quinoa pizza. All prepared by hand. All raw foods. (One important discovery so far is that my blender is sub-par.) I have soaked and prepared formerly dry beans, sprouted quinoa, and attempted to pop amaranth with mixed results (i.e. I burned some). My kitchen table is resplendent with all of the various parts of the dishes to be concocted, and my oven smells like apples and cinnamon courtesy of the cereal I made this afternoon on a cookie sheet coated in a light film of coconut oil.

Thankfully, this process has not taken as much time as it sounds. Eventually, I anticipate having the foresight and experience to appropriately prep so the meals require no more than marrying several items onto the same plate. My kitchen skills are being tested, and I own foods whose names I am not sure how to pronounce, but I am excited. This, my friends, is the behind-the-scenes pursuit. I hope that changing what I put into my body will translate into being able to do more with this body in my other ventures.

~Arrivederci

Photo Credit: IMDB

 

The one with all the yoga…

As much as I would like to offer a beautiful and existential story of my introduction to yoga, I can’t. Unfortunately, my increasing desire to master this ancient practice started from an all-too-common occurrence of me vigorously attempting to reach a goal. In this case, a t-shirt and free month of gym membership. About a year ago my gym offered a challenge: attend 15 classes in eight weeks and get a t-shirt, 30 classes and get a t-shirt and a free month. I wanted both. While two of my lovely and level-headed friends pursued the t-shirt and attained their goal easily and without interfering much with their schedules, I grasped for the ultimate prize. I did reach this particular goal, but not without some major scheduling acrobatics. (Ironically, I have yet to see that free month, but I did get my name posted on the window to the gym’s classroom).

I had to increase my course load by a couple of classes a week to guarantee success. In addition to two Bodypump classes and one Bootcamp, the only other option I could fit in was Yoga, and there were three classes a week that I could consistently attend. (I understand that my math is suspect, but I wanted to guarantee that I would at least achieve one small, personal success that semester). Eight weeks later and with over 40 classes on my punch card, I re-discovered my indifference to weight training, grudging approach to cardio, and seemingly natural attraction to yoga. In the year that followed, I dropped the weights, turned in my sneakers, and did enough yoga to require several mat cleanings. I also developed a strong desire to take the necessary steps towards a yoga teaching certification. This is my present position.

I wasn’t surprised that I almost instantly loved yoga. My mom dabbled in yoga when she was younger and often encouraged me to try it out. (She has since started practicing again at home). My husband, who has always been athletic, active, and healthy, suggested yoga on several occasions and usually in response to my whinings about wanting to be healthier. Of course, I am convinced that my frequent lamentations of stress and anxiety encouraged the suggestion of the one exercise that promised relaxation. And I do feel more relaxed, at times even serene. If I am completely honest, though, my research on yoga (and being in the university for over a decade determines that I will always do research) revealed a new motivation for sticking with yoga that has a very strong pull. People who consistently practice yoga look lean and healthy. People like Jennifer Aniston do yoga. Have you seen her arms? I’ll get my mat.

In the months that followed my rare achievement of a random goal, I tried several types of yoga. The instructors at my gym primarily teach a standard Vinyasa flow. One of my wonderful friends and I took an Ashtanga flow workshop, and I’ve toyed with Power Yoga. Just this week, actually, I started practicing with a new teacher who specializes in Power Yoga (I think cardio is stalking me, even to my yoga mat). Another fantastic friend and I even drove over two hours to take a hot yoga class (a day that ended in Italian food and a glass of wine al fresco in our then not-so-aromatic yoga clothes). I have since decided that while I do not enjoy cardio, I do not mind sweating for a purpose. That same wonderful friend took myself and our other gym buddy (and one of my favorite people) to an ashram in the Bahamas for a three-day Sivananda yoga retreat to celebrate her doctoral graduation. (Yes, my friends are stellar). This retreat featured four hours of yoga a day, a vegetarian diet (my normal fare), no air conditioning, community facilities, and a lot of chanting in Sanskrit by the staff (chanting, I’ve decided, is not my favorite). A manta ray swam under me while I floated in the ocean. I held a headstand for several seconds during a yoga class on a platform overlooking the bay. I had visions of “Aniston arms” dancing in my inverted head.

While I haven’t been entirely consistent, and have yet to develop a home practice, I have kept up with yoga better in this past year than I usually do with such endeavors. There is something wonderfully and inexplicably calming about contorting one’s body into awkward shapes dubbed “Pigeon pose” or “Bird of Paradise” (my current pose goal). There is something invigorating about learning to breathe intentionally. I’m starting to understand what it feels like to follow Psalm 46:10 and “be still.”

Months ago after one of the classes at my gym, our yoga instructor brought us out of savasana with a question that is partly to blame for my scheduled registration for Yogafit’s Level 1 training. She asked, “Don’t you want to help someone else feel as calm and relaxed as you do right now?” Yes, I thought. I would love for that to be at least my sometimes job. I want to develop a practice and learn a skill that is judgement-free. I want toned arms.  (I also decided that I want to learn and teach pre-natal yoga particularly, but that is a topic for a future post).

Thus the origin of one of my current, non-academic endeavors. I suppose yoga would be categorized as a health goal, although the goal itself is fairly vague, aside from the certification.

~Namaste and Arrivederci